When Darkness Falls
by Nos
Summary: B/S. A few dreams and a horrible prophecy send the worlds of Buffy and Co. spiraling out of control. **Finished**
1. Opening

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, cept ya know, the usual.  
  
  
Dedications: Thanks to Fleisch, for volenteering as my beta reader, and to Trisha for the encouragment. Special thanks to Rashaka for the challange that inspired me to pick up the proverbial pen once again, and to Marrec for everything.   
  
Authors Note: This is my first fic, pretty much. Song lyrics in later chapters include "Wild Horses" as preformed by Bush, and "Put Your Lights On" by Everlast  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy Summers awoke to find herself in the dark. Not the comforting, blanketing darkness one would sleep in, but the suffocating, terrifying blackness of nothingness. She scanned her eyes around, confused and disorented, seaching for some source of light. But she found nothing. Panic begin to set in, claustraphobia reminded her of waking up in her coffin, and instictivly she threw her hands out before her, punching hard. Her fear increased when her hands connected with wood, which splintered under her tiny fists. Oh God no, not again. She shrieked and kicked and clawed, dirt falling to fill her mouth and nose, choking her. She pulled herself upward and punched through the 6 feet of dirt above her....  
  
And suddenly found herself standing in the graveyard. Confused, she simply stared for a moment, before she heard a high pitched giggle behind her. She spun to find herself face to face with Drusilla, who petted a dead dog held limp in her arms.   
"Shh, little girl." Drusilla said, putting a finger to her lips. "The night sings for blood. The stars sway in the dance. He's not your puppy Slayer. He's mine to punish." The vampiress's eyes suddenly found a spot behind Buffy, and she tilted her head, grinning like the mad woman she is. "You've no eyes to see, my puppy, but you'll see much more. You've been a bad, bad dog."  
Buffy turned again, and fell backwards in horror, looking up at Spike, covered in blood, and screaming silently in pain as red flames licked his form.  
The world shifted around her again, and it was Faith who kneeled down behind her, draping an arm over her shoulder.   
"Don't worry about it B. Little Miss Muffit's come to play."  
Buffy turned around, and embraced the other Slayer, holding on to her for dear life.  
"I don't understand." she whispered. "What does this mean?"  
Faith petted Buffy's hair, and hugged her tightly back.  
"You're job is going to get a lot easier. And a lot harder. We'll be seeing each other soon, B. The pain of the world will cost you, and death will lead you."  
  
Buffy awoke for real this time, covered in sweat and shaking, a scream choking her throat. She pulled the sheets tighter around her, and reached over and flipped on the lamp, picking up the phone.   
"Giles?" Her paniced voice asked when the line picked up moments later.  
"I had a dream." 


	2. Musings of a Vampire

Spike leaned against the brick wall in the alley behind the Bronze, waiting for his Slayer to show up. She had told him the previous day that they would meet here for patrol that night, but she was a good 40 minutes late. He'd half a mind to...But he wouldn't. He knew it. He may have gotten his rocks back, as he'd said, but he was still her soddin' lap dog, whether he admitted as much to himself or not. He knew he should leave, and he wasn't talking about the Bronze. He should leave Sunnyhell, and never look back. That would show her how 'convenient' he was. He'd planned it out a million times in his head, even packed once or twice, but he never went through with it. He would worry about her too much. And the Bit would be crushed. He would never leave his girls. Not even if they wanted him too.   
  
  
He sighed and drew out a cigarette, lighting it and taking an angry drag. He listened to the strains of music flowing through the open back door of the Bronze, thinking (not brooding, never brooding!) about his Slayer. For the past week, ever since their illicit encounter in a crumbling building, she had been cold. Pretending as if it never even happened. When he mentioned it, she would either ignore him or storm off in a huff, so he had tried to push it out of his mind as well. But he hadn't succeeded.   
  
Childhood living...  
So easy to do...  
Things that you wanted...  
I bought them for you...  
Graceless lady...  
You know who I am...  
You know I can't let you...  
Slide through my hand...  
  
  
He chuckled to himself at the words of the song echoing through the establishment behind him. He connected with it, of course, being the bleedin' ponce he had become. He knew he needed to do something, and soon, or she would slide from his hands. And he would never be able to reach her again.  
  
Wild horses...  
Couldn't drag me away...  
  
And I watch you suffer...  
A dull aching pain...  
And you've decided...  
To show me the same...  
  
  
Damn right she decided to show him the same. He was addicted to her now, one taste and he was truly her slave. He angrily tossed the spent cigarette away from him and closed his eyes, listening to the rest of the song.  
  
Wild horses...  
Couldn't drag me away...  
Wild, wild, wild horses....  
Couldn't drag me away...  
  
And I know I dreamed you...  
A sin and a lie....  
Well, I have my freedom...  
Oh, but I don't have much time....  
And faith has been broken....  
Tears must be cried...  
Lest' you stop living....  
And after we die...  
  
Wild horses...  
Couldn't drag me away...  
Wild, wild, wild horses...  
We will ride them someday...  
  
  
Finally, he thought, as his nerves tingled, signaling the approach of the Slayer. He opened his eyes and looked at her, tilting his head slightly. She looked like hell. Frazzled was the only word for it, frightened maybe. He knew instantly that something was wrong, and pushed away from the wall.  
  
  
"What's wrong, luv?" he asked softly, staring into her eyes.  
  
  
She blinked, and looked up at him, watching him for what seemed like ages before she spoke, barely above a whisper.  
  
  
"Rough night. I'm fine." she turned, expecting him to follow, and headed out for patrol.  
  
  
He sighed and fell into step behind her, watching as she wrapped her arms around herself, something she only did when she was very worried about something she had no control over.  
  
  
"Buffy? Luv? Talk to me."   
  
  
She stopped suddenly, causing him to nearly walk into her, and whirled around to face him.  
  
  
"It's nothing, alright?! I had a Slayer-type dream. You know, the kind that has a tendency to come true. Freaked me out."  
  
  
His brow furrowed a little.  
  
  
"What was the dream about, pet?" he asked.  
  
  
She sighed and turned away, hugging herself more tightly.  
  
"I don't know. That's why I called Giles.... He's on his way.   
  
Something to do with Drusilla, and Faith, and you...." she trailed off.  
  
  
He blinked. Dru? Coming back? Not good.   
  
  
"What about me?" he pressed, knowing a bit more about dreams and imagery than the average vamp, considering who his sire was.   
  
  
"You...were hurt," she said. "Didn't tell me much."  
  
  
Again, a blink. But he sensed that she was holding back on him.   
  
  
"Well, luv, if the dream was about me, then I think you should tell me everythin' 'bout it. I have a right ta know what nasties will be comin' my way."  
  
  
  
She shook her head swiftly, not meeting his eyes.  
  
  
"I don't want to talk about it, alright? I'll tell you and everyone else when Giles gets here.... I don't want to tell it more than once." she paused, and looked at him. "Just...watch your back, alright? I'm tired. Can you handle patrol?"  
  
  
He was stunned. Was she worried about him? Not likely. But before he could answer, she turned and stalked off.  
  
  
"Thanks," she called over her back, and then she was gone.   
  
  
He sighed and shook his head, lighting another cigarette.  
  
  
"Bloody hell...."  
  
///  
  
He was tired. He knew he shouldn't have patrolled for her, but he did, and he was sore and achy from a fight with a demon of unknown origin. It felt good, pummeling the life out of it, but now all he wanted to do was collapse into his bed and sleep the coming day away.  
  
  
He shed his duster when he entered his crypt, pulling off his shirt on the way to the fridge. He was halfway across the room when his tired senses finally picked up on something. He wasn't alone. He froze in his tracks, his eyes shifting about the room, trying to pick up on whatever it was's location. He scented the air, picking up something disturbingly familiar when suddenly, he was struck hard from behind, with something heavy and iron. He fell forward on his hands and knees, stunned by the power behind the blow. When he looked up, his foggy vision found Drusilla standing before him, a crowbar clutched like a baseball bat in her pale hands.   
  
  
"Mummy's come to show you what it means to be a good dog..." she whispered, and then swung hard for his face, knocking him into blackness.  
  
  
The first thing he noticed when he swam back to consciousness was that he was floating. His feet weren't on the ground. Then his head cleared a little more. Right. Chains. His wrists were cuffed, high above his head. And from the way his shoulders ached, he had probably been hanging there a good long while. He tried to open his eyes, but found that he somehow couldn't. Next, he tried his mouth. Same thing. So he contented himself with growling, mumbling curses around his closed lips.  
  
  
"Oooooohhh...." Dru's child like voice sang. "Wakey, wakey, Mummy wants to play."  
  
  
He, of course, just hung there. Little else he could do at this point, aside from growling.  
  
  
"Things are coming, my Spike. To punish us all." He felt her move closer. "But you're mine to punish, Spike." She drew something long and sharp down his bare chest, and he hissed. "Mine. Thrice we'll be burned. We've been bad puppies and the stars don't like it." Again, she cut him, deeper, and dug into the wound with her fingers, prying. He choked and bit back a scream.  
  
  
"But you don't see it," she whined, continuing her 'play'. "No one does. No one hears the songs. The cries for blood. Our blood, Spike." She stabbed him through the stomach.  
  
  
He moaned and strained his arms, testing the chains again. Snug.  
  
  
"The walls are crumbling. I don't like it. I won't be punished. But you will be. You're mine to punish..." He knew she'd soon break out the holy water. Knives didn't entertain her for very long. Yep, he thought as he felt the splash and the burn. Just like old times.   
  
He screeched as well as he could, not being able to open his mouth. Of course it just egged her own.   
  
"But you never listen, Spike..." he felt something long, thin, and hard slide into his ear, seconds before she stabbed his right eardrum. Again he tried to cry out, but to no avail. The pain was horrible, burning through his head like fire. He felt the coldness slide into his other ear.  
  
"You never listen...." And that was the last thing he heard. 


	3. Helping

Buffy stepped into her room and closed the door. It was still early, but she hadn't lied when she said she was tired. She was emotionally exhausted. She sighed and crossed the room, falling onto her bed fully clothed. Something was eating at her, digging deep into the pit of her stomach. It felt a lot like her Slayer sense telling her something was horribly wrong. But she had checked the house three times, called Dawn at Tara's, called Xander and Anya. Willow was asleep, still recovering from her magic addictions. Giles was on his way to Sunnydale from England. Everyone was fine.  
  
  
She got up and paced angrily, definitely not able to sleep in this state, racking her brain for anything she might have forgotten. She figured it might be guilt, at handing her patrol over to Spike, but she needed a break. And he could totally handle himself, she knew that. He had nearly killed her himself many times, before the Initiative de-fanged him. Now that he couldn't hurt a living creature (except her...), or, anything less than demonic, he had helped her and the Scoobies fight the forces of darkness, albeit sometimes grudgingly, and until recently only for money. He had even saved her life, once or twice. The thought of that still amazed her. Spike, soulless vampire, the 'Big Bad,' William the Bloody, the scourge of Europe, and personal killer of not one, but two Slayers before her, had saved her life. And was in love with her.   
  
  
And of course, thinking about Spike, her thoughts turned to...that night. The mere thought of his cool hands...Not going there. Not again. It was over. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice. It was sick, and wrong. She was the Slayer, he was a disgusting, evil thing. Not even a person.   
  
  
She sighed and opened her door with a little more force than she intended. She might as well go see how patrol went. If anything particularly scary had surfaced. She was NOT going because she couldn't stop thinking about him, NOT going because she craved his touch, his lips on hers.   
  
  
"All business. Nothing else." she told herself as she stomped out the door.   
  
  
///  
  
  
It wasn't a long walk to the cemetery where Spike resided. The whole way there, her disturbing feeling that something was wrong only grew. It had her jumping at shadows, stake in hand. Her uneasiness grew at the lack of vampires hanging around, only having dusted two on her way over. She heard sounds coming from inside his crypt, and figured he was still up, which made sense since it was just after two a.m., midday for him.  
  
  
She shoved the door open and stormed in.  
  
  
"Spike..." she trailed off, eyes widening at the horror that was before her.  
  
  
Spike dangled above the ground, thick chains holding his wrists to the ceiling. His bare toes brushed the blood soaked floor beneath him. He was unconscious, which looked a lot like dead in his case, though she knew he wasn't since he was still non-dusty. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes running over his bare chest, a mass of welts, cuts and burns. She stumbled back against the door, hyperventilating for a moment, suppressing the urge to vomit, before fear became rage at whoever or whatever had done this to HER vampire. She whipped out her stake.  
  
  
"Miss Edith said we'd be having guests." Drusilla lilted as she stepped from the shadows. In her hands was a champagne glass, filled with clear fluid.  
  
  
Buffy froze.   
  
  
"My William and I had a party, Slayer." She tilted her head and swayed for a moment. "But he doesn't like the wine." She pouted like a child. "He fell asleep, and now Mummy has to go."  
  
  
Buffy gritted her teeth to keep herself from attacking the vampiress in outright rage.Drusilla suddenly turned serious.  
  
  
"I've no mind for things to come. Miss Edith cries every night, I had to put her to sleep too." Her eyes shone. "The fire comes, child of light. It will burn us all. I'd rather sleep."  
  
  
Buffy's eyes widened again as Drusilla brought the glass to her lips and drank it all in one gulp. And then vanished in a swirl of dust without so much as a scream.  
  
  
She stood in shock, staring at the pile of dust that was formerly Spike's sire. Her stake clattered to the floor. Numbly, she turned again to Spike, looking him over for a way to get him down without hurting him further. As she got closer, she saw to her horror that his lips and eyes had been sewn shut.   
  
  
It took all she had not to vomit again. Trickles of blood ran from his ears as well, and she could only guess that his hearing had been taken too.  
  
  
She shook her head and backed away, hitting the stone wall of the crypt and sliding down. This was her fault. She should have gone with him. Her fault. She had enough presence of mind to touch the ring on her hand that Willow had long ago enchanted, and spoke the word that would bring her friend here.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Willow awoke from a dead sleep, shaking as the locator spell went off. Cursing, she picked up the phone and dialed.  
  
  
"Xander? Emergency, meet me at Spike's crypt."  
  
  
///  
  
  
Willow had never run so fast in her life. She could have gotten there much quicker with a spell, but she didn't know the severity of the situation, and didn't want to test her new magic-free lifestyle. She was breathless by the time she met up with Xander and Anya, still blinking sleep from their eyes, at the door to the crypt.  
  
  
"What happened? Why the bat signal?" Xander asked, a little out of breath himself.  
  
  
"Yes, why? I am missing cuddlies." Anya pouted.  
  
  
"Remember when I gave Buffy that locator ring? It just went off. And here. Did you bring weapons?" Willow said.  
  
  
"Yeah, of course, I'm not running off into 'emergency' unarmed." Xander produced a stake, as did Anya.  
  
  
Willow hoped that would be enough. A spell on her lips anyway, she held back as Xander pushed open the door.  
  
  
"Oh god." he whispered.  
  
  
Willow panicked and pushed past him, greeted by the sight of the bloody and unconscious Spike, still hanging in the middle of the room.  
  
  
She brought a hand to her mouth and looked around, seeing one pile of dust, and breathing a sigh of relief when she saw Buffy curled against the wall.  
  
  
Even Anya paled when she stepped into the room, but also hurried to Buffy's side. Xander shut the door behind them, and examined Spike with wide eyes.  
  
  
"Buffy, what happened?" Willow asked gently, pushing the hair back from her best friend's face.   
  
  
"Drusilla...and she..." Buffy choked out between sobs. She looked up at her friends' worried faces, and closed her eyes, trying to gain control of her raging emotions. Finally, she calmed. Her sobs subsided, and she was able to speak.  
  
  
"Drusilla...she said she needed to punish him...And that she didn't want to burn...And then she dusted herself. I got here too late...." she finished, forcing back another sob and climbing to her feet.  
  
  
Willow shook her head, unbelieving. Drusilla dusted herself? Well, she was insane. She helped Buffy up and the three girls turned around.  
  
  
Xander was already trying to get Spike down. He gave up on pulling on the chains and finally went to the vampire's weapons trunk, pulling out a large axe.  
  
  
"Be careful...He's really hurt...." Willow said, with compassion she didn't know she had for the blond.  
  
  
Xander nodded and gritted his teeth. He dragged a chair over, and stood on it, aiming for where the chains were attached to the ceiling.  
  
  
"Alright, Evil Undead...Brace yourself," he said, and then swung.  
  
  
Three swings later, the chains snapped and Spike fell to the floor, hard. It must have awakened him, because he whimpered and rolled over. Xander dropped to the ground and bent to help the vampire up, but as soon as he touched him, Spike winced and kicked out with both legs at Xander, the blow causing the blond more pain as his chip went off. He whimpered again, his still chained hands twitching to grab his head.  
  
  
Xander rubbed his chest, and looked up at the girls.  
  
  
"How are we going to help him if he won't let us?" he asked, eyeing the stitches in the vampire's eyes and mouth.  
  
  
"He probably knows now that the chip went off. Try again!" Anya supplied encouragingly. Buffy hung back, hugging herself, and Willow stepped forward to help, giving the Slayer an odd look.  
  
  
Xander shrugged, and reached out to touch Spike again. This time the vampire was still, only wincing away, not thrashing out.  
  
  
"See? Told ya," Anya said, proud of herself.  
  
  
Buffy finally spoke.  
  
  
"We need to get him out of here. Did you bring your car, Xander?"  
  
  
He nodded, wondering how they would get Spike in the car without hurting him further. Followed by wondering why he cared if Spike was hurt.  
  
  
"Alright..." the Slayer continued in her take charge voice. "Let's just do this quick, and get him to my house." She walked over to where Spike lay, and, frowning at what she was forced to do, she knelt and slammed her fist into his face with all her slayer strength.  
  
  
The vampire grunted, and then his head lolled to the side. He was unconscious again. Good.   
  
  
She signaled to Xander, and they lifted him between them, and carried him to the car.  
  
  
///  
  
  
It was Xander who had finally had the courage to remove the stitches from Spike's eyes and mouth. Still looking a little green from the work, he and Anya left the slayer and Willow to attend to the vampire.  
  
  
Buffy sighed, taping bandages on the burns and slashes on Spike's chest. She couldn't do anything about his ears, or his eyes for that matter, but she could help with this. She was thankful that he remained unconscious.  
  
  
Willow watched her work, frowning. She'd noticed how tender Buffy was with the vampire. She saw how familiar she was towards his body. But she didn't say anything. If her friend wanted to tell her anything, she would.   
  
  
When she was satisfied that he would be comfortable when he woke, she checked the curtains in her room, making sure the sunlight couldn't get in, and left the wounded vampire sleeping in her bed. 


	4. Dulled

Spike dreamed. Actually dreamed, not the fantasies of blood and gore and Buffy that ran through his thoughts while he slept, but an actual dream. No, strike that. This wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.  
  
  
He was standing in total blackness. Confused. It felt so real. But he knew it couldn't be. Could it? The last thing he remembered was waking up after hitting the floor of his crypt. And the warm scent of humans. His humans. So this wasn't right.   
  
  
He turned around, frowning, not used to not being able to see in the dark, and the thought down right unnerved him. That's when the sound started. It started with such abruptness that he jumped, spinning to face his new foe. But only blackness mocked him. The sound became whispering, surrounding him, taunting, teasing. The blackness took form. The form of every creature he had ever met or sunk his fangs into. Every being he had caused pain or had cause pain to him. They attacked in whirls, ripping him, slashing him, crushing him.   
  
  
And then it stopped. He fell back onto the ground, panting, looking himself over for wounds that no longer existed. For the first time since, well, since Glory he was afraid. Truly afraid.   
  
  
He screamed when the whispering started again....  
  
  
///  
  
  
He didn't know how long it was until he finally woke up. Really waking. He licked his lips, and opened his eyes, frowning as his vision came to him in a disturbing blur. He furrowed his brow, and looked around as best he could, greeted with only colour. Unfamiliar colour. Not his crypt. He closed his eyes and scented the air, catching the hints of vanilla and power. Slayer. Her bed? No. Couldn't be. She would never...  
  
  
"Buffy?" he finally managed to call out, jumping in surprise when he failed to hear his own voice. What's that all about? he thought, before he remembered. Dru. Groaning, more than surprised not to hear it, he flopped back down onto the bed, cursing inaudibly at the pain the movement caused.   
  
  
Something moving and colourful suddenly appeared in his field of vision. He jumped again, followed by a long string of curses at being so easily startled. He stared hard at this movement, this creature, tilting his head. He couldn't recognize anything. He reached out a hand slowly, and felt his fingers come into contact with warm flesh. He trailed his touch across this flesh, feeling lips, nose, eyes, silky hair. He scented the air again. Buffy.  
  
  
"Buffy," he said aloud, or thought he did. It was what he imagined himself saying, anyway. He let his arm drop, suddenly so tired. He slipped back into the darkness.  
  
  
///  
  
  
This time he woke slowly. That damned dream had come again, once, twice? He couldn't recall. But it had come again, and that pissed him off royally. His anger faded when he opened his eyes, this time ready for the dizzying swirl of colours...but found that his vision had improved. He could make out a few things, no sharp lines, just fuzzy ones, but damned if he could see the mirror hanging over the Slayer's dresser and tell that it was a mirror. He smiled to himself.  
  
  
"Spike?" came a voice, as if through a fog, sounding very far away. He wondered for a moment if he had actually heard it.  
  
  
"Slayer?" he replied, hearing his own voice the same way.  
  
  
The bed shifted slightly, and she came into view, smiling.   
  
  
"You look like hell," she said, with a twist of grin.  
  
  
He chuckled, frowning. He felt like hell, but not as bad as he had before. Dull and achy, really, not sharp pain. Like most of his senses at the moment. Dulled.  
  
  
"Hungry." was all he said next, even though the word surprised him. He hadn't even thought about it till it crossed his lips. Bloodlust, now that he had found it, wasn't letting go. It felt as if he hadn't eaten in days. His demon raged, screaming for him to take the morsel set before him. Even if he wanted to (which he didn't), he knew that the Slayer would win that round in seconds considering his weakened condition.  
  
  
"You should be. Sleeping for two days straight will do that to you." Buffy said, as she left the room.  
  
  
It wasn't long, really, before she came back, a freshly heated mug of blood in her hands, complete with straw. The sight brought memories surging back, of her feeding him while he was chained in the Watcher's bleedin' bathtub. Teasing him with her bared throat. Red's spell.... That was back when he had come to them, his enemies, half-starved after escaping the soldier boys, come to them for help. And lo and behold, they had taken him in. Surprised the hell out of him, really.   
  
  
"Here, drink up, and we'll see if you can come downstairs. Dawn is really anxious to see that you're alright." Buffy said, playing the careful nursemaid. She cupped the back of his head carefully, and helped him sit up. He kept his eyes on her while he drank the blood, struggling with the demon, keeping his face human.  
  
  
He did feel stronger after it, and was able to stand. She helped him downstairs, and into one of the chairs in her living room. She disappeared into the kitchen, and began to talk to someone. Normally, he could have heard what she was saying, but fog still clouded his hearing.  
  
  
She returned with another mug of blood, followed closely by Willow and Dawn.  
  
  
"Spike!" Dawn veritably screamed and broke from the other two, looking, to his dismay, like she was going to pounce on him, but she stopped and settled with a gentle hug instead.  
  
  
"They wouldn't let me see you. And they wouldn't tell me what happened!" the Key turned 15 year-old girl squeaked. "Are you alright?"  
  
  
He gave her a small smile and patted her hair, nodding.  
  
  
"Fine, Nibblet. Big Bad here, 'member? 'Sides, Sis over there took care o' me." Buffy handed him the mug, which he drank greedily.  
  
  
"More?" she asked quietly, so that he barely even heard it.  
  
  
"Please." he replied, handing the mug back. She disappeared again.  
  
  
Willow came over and stared down at him, tilting her head slightly. Dawn latched onto his arm and glared at the witch, still brassed off at the events that resulted in the purple cast covering her arm.  
  
  
"Red?" he asked carefully, not liking the way she was staring at him.  
  
  
Willow blushed.   
  
  
"Oh, I...just wanted to see how much better you were. We-We did a spell, a necessary one, to speed up the healing process. Giles helped..." she trailed off. Discussing magic with Dawn around was still uncomfortable for her.  
  
  
"Well...thanks...an' all...." he said, looking past her, finally noticing the older Brit standing in the doorway, well, watching.  
  
  
"Watcher," he said in greeting, nodding his head slightly. He respected the man, more than he would ever let on. Strong enough to stand hours of torture at the hands of Angelus, brave enough to let William the Bloody sleep on his couch and eat his Weetabix, not to mention being the sole father figure for the Slayer.  
  
  
"Spike," Giles said pleasantly, giving him the 'You're going to tell me everything that happened' look.  
  
  
Just then, Xander and Anya entered through the front door. Apparently, there was a meeting planned. The ex-demon smiled happily and waved at him, clutching Xander's arm. The whelp just gave a nod in greeting before he spoke.  
  
  
"Evil Undead....You're looking...good..." he said.  
  
  
"He's lying." Anya cut in. "You look like hell. You're all bruised and icky."  
  
  
"So I've been told." Spike replied in a low voice.  
  
  
Buffy finally returned with another mug. This one he sipped, and remained quiet. Buffy actually sat on the arm of his chair, and brushed away an errant strand of hair from his face, earning incredulous looks from the others that she didn't seem to notice. And the meeting started.  
  
  
"Well. I'm sure you all know that some strange things have been going on. Buffy's dream's not being the worst of it." Giles started, removing his glasses and cleaning them. Bad sign.   
  
  
"From what I've been able to gather, events are coming together that are linked to writing in an ancient text, long thought lost. It happens to be part of my personal collection."  
  
  
He paused, replacing his glasses and looking at the group.  
  
  
"It seems we've an apocalypse to advert."  
  
  
"Again?!" Xander, Anya and Willow moaned. Spike had been thinking the same thing.  
  
  
"Bloody hell..." he muttered, sipping on his blood. 


	5. Awed

Buffy sighed, and listened as Giles explained it again. He had come upon the book while packing for his trip from England, and had found some interesting references to both Buffy's dream and what Drusilla had said to her and Spike.  
  
  
"From what I could gather, what Drusilla meant by being 'punished' is this Cleansing that is mentioned. It's incredibly vague, but it seems to have to do with vampires as a populace. And that the Cleansing is a harbinger for events that lead to the end of the world. There will be a testing period...." He removed his glasses, and sighed. "But it makes no mention of what will be tested, or who. Only that the Cleansing will bring the Darkness. And only the strong will survive."  
  
  
There was a long drawn-out silence. No one wanted to ask questions that they had no answers to. Buffy was the first to speak up.  
  
  
"But in my dream, Faith told me that my job would get a lot easier, and a lot harder. How could fighting the end of the world be easy in any way?"  
  
  
Giles shook his head, looking like he really needed a drink.  
  
  
"I don't know, Buffy. Perhaps you should call Angel and have him speak to Faith about this. You said that she also mentioned you would be seeing her soon. If it does come down to the end of the world, we could very well be in need of her help."  
  
  
Xander and Willow didn't look at all comfortable with that idea.   
  
  
Buffy noticed that Spike was oddly silent through the whole thing.  
  
  
The meeting finished, and everyone began to file out. Giles lingered, telling everyone he would have more answers in the morning.  
  
  
As Buffy saw the rest out, and Willow ascended the stairs, Giles was watching Spike.  
  
  
"How do you feel about all of this?" he asked the blond vampire.  
  
  
Spike looked up, staring at him for a moment. Apparently, his vision was still giving him trouble, as it seemed he had a hard time focusing on the watcher.  
  
  
" 'Bout what? The fact I'm gonna be bloody cleansed or what not? Rather not think 'bout it thank you."  
  
  
Giles nodded in understanding, and smiled at his Slayer as she returned to the room.  
  
  
"I uh, found something, while I was in England...." he said, pulling a small box from his pocket. "Another watcher had it for years, apparently, saying he never really put it to the test...."  
  
  
Buffy watched him curiously as he opened the box and revealed a tiny silver earring, crafted in hoop fashion. He handed it to her, but looked at Spike.  
  
  
"My friend said that he was told the earring allows a vampire to see himself. Now, that could either mean reflection or something more sinister, but, you being the only vampire I really know..."  
  
  
"You decided I'd make a good experiment?" Spike finished.  
  
  
"No, I simply believed that you would want to be able to see yourself after all these years."  
  
  
The look on Spike's face said he was definitely intrigued. He got to his feet weakly, wincing slightly.   
  
  
"Right then. What's the deal with it?"  
  
  
"The only catch is that it has to be willingly put on by a human. Thus the reason most vampires wouldn't fancy having it."  
  
  
Buffy shrugged, and stepped over to Spike. She positioned him in front of the mirror, still not getting over how eerie it was to be alone in its surface. She shook her head, and looked back to Spike, and snapped the earring in place.  
  
  
Spike nearly jumped back three feet when he suddenly appeared in the mirror. His eyes wide, he stared, awed at his own reflection. He had really forgotten what he looked like. Even down to the colour of his eyes. Which he liked. He laughed, putting his hands on the sides of his face, then touching the mirror. Buffy watched, amused, unable to stop herself from thinking how adorable it was that he was so amazed.  
  
  
Spike himself was silent for a good long while, tilting his head this way and that, studying himself Giles and Buffy watched. He couldn't wait to see what he looked like without the swollen lips and eyes, and various discoloured bruises.  
  
  
Taking a step back, he grinned at Buffy.  
  
  
"You're right. I do look like hell." 


	6. The Cleansing: Beginings

Somewhere between Sunnydale and Los Angeles -Three days later.  
  
  
  
Angel drove as carefully as he could, pushing 80, and worried as hell. Cordelia sat beside him, still looking pale from the vision that had sent them packing. Wesley muttered to himself in the backseat, reading through various books by the interior light.  
  
  
Cordelia moaned and watched as the scenery whizzed by, feeling slightly sick. She had never had a vision about the end of the world, and it seemed, they were a hell of a lot more painful than the normal, mind-splitting kind. She knew they were killing her. But from what the vision had told her, none of them had time enough to worry about that.  
  
  
"So, you're sure that Buffy will know what is going on?" she weakly asked Angel.  
  
  
His knuckles white on the steering wheel, he replied through gritted teeth.  
  
  
"Yes. You said that the vision centered around her. Explain it again."  
  
  
The brunette moaned once more. For the third time, she started from the beginning.  
  
  
"The vision hit, all mind pounding and such. I saw Buffy, surrounded by vampires crumbling to dust. I saw Drusilla, and then she was gone. I saw Spike." She winced as Angel growled, and pressed the accelerator down a little further. Quickly, she continued. "I saw you, hurting, I don't know why. Then I saw the world consumed in flames. And no, I can't explain further, I only know that you can't see Buffy or the others till the time is right. Again, I don't know why, or when, but I guess, I'll get another vision." she sighed, and flopped back into the seat.  
  
  
Angel sighed as well.  
  
  
"How am I supposed to help if I can't talk to them? What am I supposed to do, stalk them? Or..." he trailed off suddenly, his eyes widening.  
  
  
Cordelia looked over at him, annoyed. Until she saw the look on his face.  
  
  
"Angel? What's wrong?"  
  
  
The vampire doubled over the steering wheel, gasping for unneeded air. He managed to hit the brakes, sending the car skidding to a halt, right in the center of the highway. Wesley, who hadn't been paying attention, looked up just as Angel fell out of the car. Cordelia ripped her door open and ran around to Angel's side, kneeling.  
  
  
"Angel? ANGEL!" she screamed, panicking, watching as Angel writhed in pain, his eyes unfocused.   
  
  
"What happened?" Wesley asked, climbing out.  
  
  
"I don't know. We have to get him somewhere safe. Help me get him into the car!" Wesley nodded and they both hurried to shove the crippled vampire in the back seat.   
  
  
///  
  
  
Sunnydale  
  
  
  
"So, you're sure you're healed enough to patrol?" Buffy asked, looking over her shoulder at her pretty much constant vampire companion.  
  
  
"Of course." Spike replied, striding a little faster to catch up. "Wouldn't be traipsin' 'round with you if I wasn't up for the fightin', luv."  
  
  
She chuckled, and shook her head. He did LOOK better. The bruises were pretty much gone; he said his eyes and hearing were almost like new.   
  
  
She sighed as three vampires jumped out from hiding, circling the two.  
  
  
"What do you think, Spike? Can we take 'em all in three seconds?"  
  
  
It was Spike's turn to chuckle.  
  
  
"Sure, luv," he said, pulling out his own stake. And the fight was on.  
  
  
Buffy was thrilled. The vamp population had been sparse lately, leaving her nothing to kill. She was so ready for this, and flew into battle, staking one of the vampires before it even had time to register what it was it had attacked. Spike was doing well against the other two, trading blow for blow.  
  
  
Suddenly, it seemed as if the texture of the air had changed. Spike and the other two vampires froze. The fledglings took off running. They got three steps before they both fell to their knees, screaming. And then they dissolved into dust.  
  
  
Buffy furrowed her brow.  
  
  
"What the hell?" she asked, turning around.  
  
  
Spike was on his knees, his eyes wide. "Oh, god." he breathed, holding his sides. Buffy was suddenly consumed by the fear that he was about to be dust as well. She dropped her stake and ran to his side, grabbing him by the shoulders.  
  
  
"Spike?! Spike!" She couldn't lose him. Not now. Not when she was beginning to realize how much he really meant to her.   
  
  
Spike didn't seem to hear her. He would have fallen over on his side if not for the fact that Buffy's arms were around him. His entire body shook, every muscle clenched.  
  
  
She nearly broke down when he screamed, thrashing his arms and legs, as if fighting off a mob. She watched in horror as bruises emerged on his face anew, and then faded away. The scar on his eyebrow split open, splashing his face with blood. Then it closed, and the blood vanished.   
  
  
He managed to throw her off of him, and he fell onto his back, his hands clawing at the grass. The noises he made were of pure agony, choking in his throat. His demon emerged for a moment, before the pain caused it to retreat again. His back arched, as if something was pulling his chest upwards, and then he collapsed, babbling, relaxing slightly.  
  
  
"Only the strong...Only the strong..." he muttered, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Buffy quickly pulled him to his feet.   
  
  
"Come on Spike, stay with me," she commanded, fear clutching at her heart. He continued to mumble, his eyes half closed, and barely put forth effort into walking as Buffy half dragged him toward her house. Giles. Giles would know what to do.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Buffy slammed open the front door, staggering in with her half-conscious burden. Giles and Dawn looked up from the couch.  
  
  
"What happened?" Giles said, rising.  
  
  
"Dawn, go to your room, NOW!" Buffy said, in a tone that warranted no argument.  
  
  
Dawn, nearly in tears, did as she was told.  
  
  
It had happened again on the way home. His whole body had tensed and she was forced to let him go, only able to watch through the tears as he thrashed and screamed. The second time it was worse. She knew there would be a third. Drusilla said three times.  
  
  
"I think this cleansing thing has started..." she said, and was cut off when Spike keened, and stumbled out of her arms, hitting the floor hard.  
  
  
"Oh God, Giles! What do I do? Oh god..." she watched, panicking all over again. He had survived it twice. He would survive the last time. She hoped.  
  
  
Giles too, watched in horror, as it seemed every wound ever inflicted on the vampire opened again. He screamed, thrashing. Buffy tried to hold him down, but once again she was thrown away, and only able to watch, helpless.  
  
  
Giles pulled her into his arms, and she sobbed on his chest, unable to bear her lover's pain. When she finally had control of herself, she settled down next to Spike, and watched as the fit came to an end.  
  
  
Smoke rose from his chest, causing the fear to tighten in her throat again. This time, when Spike's back arched, his eyes flew open, not in pain, or terror, but in awe. Then he clenched them shut, and fell back down, gasping. Shuddering all over, he rolled onto his side, whimpering, and began to sob. 


	7. Old Friends

Spike burned. That's the only thing that he could think of, as he was   
cleansed. Burning. The agony had ripped through him, and he fought it   
tooth and nail. He forgot about his life, his death, his Slayer, the world.   
He only knew the pain.  
  
Then there had come that brief moment when he understood. Everything.   
Life, death, what comes after. He knew it all. But the world came crashing   
back as it ended, leaving him broken, clinging to that truth that slowly   
slipped away as awareness settled in.  
  
He had rolled over onto his side and started to cry. The remembrance of   
the pain had left his muscles twitching and sore. All he wanted to do was   
sleep, for a good week or two. But he knew that he couldn't.  
  
He got control of himself and rolled back over, staring up at the ceiling,   
trying to force away the lingering pain.  
  
"Spike?" Buffy's timid voice came through to him. It sounded as if she   
had been crying.  
  
He opened his mouth to reply, but the words that came out weren't the ones   
he had planned on speaking.  
  
"The child of light, cloaked in red..." he began, then frowned. He didn't   
notice Giles scrambling for a notebook and pen behind him. He took an   
unneeded breath and tried again. "With hands for death and eyes unread..."   
Now Spike was really confused.  
  
Finally, he just gave up. Whatever he was saying obviously needed to be   
said. So he continued.  
  
"Shall give the gift and buy it back....And give her soul for one who   
lacks. When the water turns and the new blood burns, the wall from night   
and day will raze, and the bridge that rises in its place, shall be   
consecrated in blue and black and crimson, and the first soulmates shall be   
born, at the price of the world."  
  
Giles finished writing, capping the pen and looking to the dumbstruck   
Slayer.  
  
"Spike? Is there more?" the watcher asked.  
  
Spike shook his head, and forced himself into a sitting postion.  
  
"God, that was bloody awful.." the vampire muttered, letting his face fall   
into his hands. Buffy slid an arm around his waist and helped him to his   
feet.  
  
"I almost lost you..." she whispered, tightening her grip on him.  
  
"I'm fine, pet. No worries." he turned to her, and was only a little less   
surprised than Giles to find Buffy's lips on his. He kissed her back hungrily for   
a moment before she broke away, and looked at the Watcher.  
  
"Giles, why don't you go talk with the others? Do some research? Find out   
what that...poem means? I need to talk to Spike. Alone."  
  
Giles stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of   
water, before nodding dumbly and hurrying out the door, muttering something   
about a good scotch.  
  
Spike grinned a little dumbly himself as the Slayer led him up the stairs.   
He was tired as hell, yeah, and still aching, but not so much that he wasn't   
interested in what she might be planning.  
  
He found out right quick as her bedroom door closed behind them.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Spike awoke with a start, hearing something thump to the ground outside the   
Slayer's window. He listened, tilting his head, as small footsteps hurried   
away into the night.  
  
He muttered a curse, and disentangled himself from the sleeping Buffy as   
gently as he could without waking her. Throwing on his jeans and shirt and   
grabbing his duster, he made it out of the house just in time to see Dawn   
disappear around the corner.  
  
"Nibblet.." he growling, wondering what the girl could possibly be   
thinking, sneaking out at 2 a.m. As he took off after her, he decided he   
would find out before he dragged her home.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Angel had had worse days. He couldn't recall them at the moment, but he   
was sure he had. The Cleansing had been horrible, sure. But he knew he   
deserved it, after everything he had done in his time. Four aspirin had   
taken care of the lingering side effects, so they had continued on, driving   
the last 20 minutes to Sunnydale.  
  
Wes and Cordelia had remained behind, poring through books, trying to find   
some reference to the prophecy he had spoken after the Cleansing was over.   
The vampire had left them to it, deciding to prowl around town for the   
remainder of the night, to try and find any other information he might need.  
  
He ducked into a shadow when he saw a girl run by, perhaps 15 years old.   
The girl...Buffy's sister, Dawn. That's who she was. He frowned, watching   
as she looked behind her, and sped up slightly. Angel searched around her,   
almost leaving the shadows to go and ask her what she was doing, when he saw   
someone following her, keeping to the rooftops.  
  
He growled, vamping out as he recognized Spike, stalking the girl.  
  
He followed the pair, keeping out of range, but close enough to be ready to   
do something when Spike attacked.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Spike was getting tired of following Dawn. She had been out for nearly 30   
minutes, and apparently going in circles. He figured it was best to just end it   
right now, before she got hurt. Even with most of the vampires dusted,   
there was still an untold number of beasties crawling about.  
  
She turned into an alley and Spike leapt off the building, landing before   
her in a crouch.  
  
Dawn shrieked in surprise.  
  
"Spike?!"  
  
The vampire reached out to grab her by the arm and haul her home, when a   
dark shape slammed into him with the force of a small car, knocking him to   
the ground.  
  
Dawn screamed for real this time, and jumped back as the other vampire   
jumped on Spike and threw him away from her. Spike was on his feet in less   
than a second, dancing on his toes, his face reflecting amusement when he   
recognized his foe.  
  
"Peaches? Just what in the bloody hell do you think..." he was cut off   
when Angel threw a right hook at his jaw.  
  
Spike chuckled as the blow knocked him back a few feet. Then returned the   
favor, bringing up his leg and kicking the older vampire in the side of the   
head, knocking him to the ground.  
  
"Stupid, Spike, attacking Buffy's sister. Are you just begging for an..."   
this time it was Angel who trailed off as Spike doubled over laughing.   
Taking it as an insult, Angel went on the attack again, kneeing Spike in the   
face and throwing him onto his back. Still, Spike didn't stop laughing.  
  
The younger vampire only laughed harder when Angel was attacked from   
behind, by a very brassed off ex-Key.  
  
"Leave him alone!" Dawn screamed, and kicked Angel hard in the back of the   
knee. The vampire spun, instinct driving the flat of his hand at the girl's   
face, knocking her to the side. Spike stopped laughing.  
  
"Dawn?" Angel asked, surprised. "I'm sorry, I.." she raised her head and   
glared at him. Her tiny fist flew out, and with a move that rivaled her big   
sister, struck him hard in the eye. He staggered back, only to find a fully   
vamped out Spike, who locked an arm around his neck.  
  
"Don't. Touch. The girl." Spike growled, and dropped Angel hard.   
Forcing his demon away, he stepped over the fallen vampire and reached out   
to Dawn.  
  
"You okay, Nibblet?" he asked, concern in his voice, to Angel's surprise.  
  
"Yeah." she said, shaking her hand. "I'm fine." She continued to glare at   
Angel, who was getting to his feet.  
  
"What in the hell is going on here?" Angel demanded.  
  
Spike chuckled.  
  
"An' I'm guessin' Buffy hasn't told you nuthin' bout me recently, has she?"  
  
Angel just stared at him.  
  
"Figures." Spike shrugged, and took Dawn by the arm. He seemed to forget   
about Angel for a moment.  
  
"Now, little bit, I could kill you where you stand, what in the soddin'   
hell are you doin' sneakin' 'round at 2 a.m.? Without me?"  
  
Dawn smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Um, going for a walk?"  
  
Spike shook her lightly.  
  
"Bit..." he warned.  
  
"Visitingmyboyfriend." she said quickly.  
  
"BOYFRIEND?! Who?" Spike nearly yelled.  
  
"Hello?" Angel said, stepping closer to the two. "Spike, if you don't tell   
me what is going on..." he moved closer. And sniffed the air. "Why do you   
smell like Buffy?"  
  
"Bloody hell..." 


	8. Admitting

Spike rolled his eyes and turned away from Angel. He wasn't really in the   
mood to explain to his grand-sire that he was shaggin' the love of his   
unlife.  
  
"Come on, Bit, I'm takin' you home." he growled, hauling Dawn back toward   
the house.  
  
"But..But..." Dawn started.  
  
"No buts! Now! Who is this boyfriend? I'll rip 'is head off. I'll   
crush 'is bones into bloody powder..."  
  
"Alright! I wasn't going to see a boyfriend! I don't have a boyfriend! I   
was going to break into the Magic Shop."  
  
"Is that all?" Spike scoffed. "An' ya couldn'ta asked for some company?"   
He paused. "Er...Ya know Buffy wouldn't be pleased with that."  
  
"Which is why I was sneaking out!" Dawn said, shaking him off her arm.  
  
"SPIKE!" Angel called, loping up after them. "Spike, I mean it, if you   
don't..."  
  
Spike sighed. And turned around.  
  
"Listen, Peaches, let me get the Bit home, then we can pound the bloody hell   
outta each other, right?"  
  
Angel sighed, and shrugged, following, if only to make sure Spike didn't   
hurt Dawn. He didn't know what was going on, what had happened to Spike   
that he was apparently...not good, but not killing everything in sight.  
  
"Last time I saw you, Spike, you had me tortured." he said calmly.  
  
Spike chuckled.  
  
"Ah, memories. Yeah, it was a riot. A bloody good time. Live with me 'til   
my dusty ending, that."  
  
Angel growled.  
  
"What did you do to Buffy? Why is her smell all over you?"  
  
"Maybe you should ask 'er, mate. "  
  
Dawn ignored Angel, apparently still mad that he had hit her.  
  
"Last time I saw Dru she rambled about you having gone soft, but..."  
  
Spike whirled around.  
  
"I haven't gone soft. I'm still the Big Bad. You people would do right to   
'member that."  
  
He turned around and continued on.  
  
"An' Dru's dead. Dusted 'erself, knowing this Cleansing rot was comin'.   
She woulda been too weak to survive it." he continued.  
  
Angel frowned, confused as hell.  
  
"Cleansing?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, about 5 hours ago? 'appened to us all? Us bein'   
vampires?" Spike shook his head.  
  
"That...was a Cleansing? And you survived?" Angel was skeptical.  
  
"Yeah, unless you're hallucinating."  
  
It was Angel's turn to shake his head. He remained silent the rest of the   
way to Buffy's. He figured that this meeting meant he could see her now. He   
hoped.  
  
///  
  
  
Spike followed Dawn up the front steps, once again surprising Angel as he   
walked into Buffy's house without an invite. Angel, having already been   
invited long ago, followed, slamming the door shut behind him.  
  
"Spike? I woke up and you..."  
  
Spike hurried to cut her off.  
  
"Yeah, luv, the Nibblet scampered off an' I went out to fetch 'er. Ran inta   
someone..."  
  
He trailed off, watching Buffy come down the stairs, staring at Angel.  
  
Her eyes widened. She hit the bottom step just in time for Angel to rush   
up and enfold her in his arms.  
  
"Buffy, I was so worried. I thought..." he stopped and turned around,   
watching the door slam behind Spike as the vampire took off into the night.  
  
Buffy sighed and pushed Angel away.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she looked to Dawn. "What's going on?"  
  
Dawn shrugged, and ran up to her room, slamming the door behind her.  
  
"Buffy, I should be asking YOU what's going on. What is the deal with   
Spike? Why is he hanging around?"  
  
"It's a long story, Angel..." Buffy sighed, sinking down onto the stairs.  
  
The vampire stared at her. "I've got a while. I feel like I deserve an   
explanation."  
  
"You really wanna know?" Buffy looked him in the eye. "Fine. After the   
whole Ring of Amara thing, Spike came back here, got captured by the   
government, found out he had a chip in his head that wouldn't let him hurt   
anyone and we took him in." Buffy took a breath.  
  
Angel's eyebrows raised, watching the Slayer.  
  
"You took him in? Just because of some chip? Not that I'm not seeing the   
humor in all this..."  
  
"Yeah, we did. He was helpless...starving, Angel! And he had information   
we needed. He started helping out. He went toe to toe with Glory for me   
and Dawn. For nothing! He's changed, Angel. He loves me...."  
  
"He loves you?!" Angel yelled. "Buffy, he doesn't have a soul!"  
  
"He loved Drusilla for more than a hundred years! What does a soul   
matter?"  
  
Angel threw up his hands, and turned away.  
  
"So that's why he smells like you. I let you go so you can have someone   
normal, and you turn to Spike?! All of the people he ruthlessly murdered,   
before this chip, what, that just disappears? Don't you care?"  
  
Buffy stood up, clenching her fists.  
  
"Of course I care. I know what he's done, just like I know what you've   
done."  
  
"I have a soul, Buffy. I regret what I've done. To him, it's just a happy   
memory!"  
  
"Stop it!" Buffy screamed. She took a few deep breaths. "Just...stop. I   
have to go find him. We'll talk about this later."  
  
She stormed out, leaving the bewildered vampire behind.  
  
  
  
///  
  
"Bloody poof." Spike muttered as he knocked back a shot. Willy's was   
pretty much empty, no vampires left to populate it. Willy had been shocked   
himself to see Spike walk in, thinking all the vampires had 'bitten the dust'.  
  
Spike sighed as he felt Buffy approaching. Looking around, he thought about   
making a run for it, but decided to wait it out.  
  
"Spike." she called from the doorway. "What the hell are you doing?"  
  
He turned around, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.  
  
"Givin' you and Peaches some alone time."  
  
"You jealous?" Buffy said softly, approaching.  
  
"Of course I'm bloody jealous! I love you!" Willy whistled softly between   
his teeth, earning murderous looks from both blondes.  
  
"I know you don't love me. I'm not a stupid git." Spike continued. "You   
love him. So, here I am, leavin' you to it." Buffy was only inches away   
now. "So why tha hell are you here?"  
  
He watched her, his stormy eyes swirling with emotion. Her hand suddenly   
flew out and cracked him hard across the face.  
  
"Do you KNOW how scared I was? That you would die during the Cleansing?   
God, Spike, why do you think I was crying?"  
  
The vampire rubbed his jaw, glaring at her.  
  
"Maybe 'cos you were afraid you'd lose your favorite toy?"  
  
Buffy's eyes narrowed. She raised her voice.  
  
"If I treat you so horribly, then why the hell do you hang around?"  
  
Spike raised his voice, standing up, shouting in her face.  
  
"Because I love you, you stupid bitch!" His nose was almost touching   
hers.  
  
"Well, I love you too!" she shouted back, and grabbed his head, pulling him   
close, and smashing her mouth to his.  
  
Spike groaned and melted into her lips, his hands tangling in her hair.   
Then his eyes flew open. He pushed her away.  
  
"You...you love me?  
  
************ 


	9. Learning

The Meydum Pyramid-Faiyum Oasis, Egypt  
  
  
Through the veil of darkness, three figures moved. The clank of shovels   
and tools was the only sound that broke the quiet of the night. The moon   
shone overhead, nearly full, illuminating the desert landscape. A large   
pyramid loomed, oddly shapen, as if the ancient builders hadn't a clue what   
they were doing when it was constructed. The figures paused, looking over   
the area, hushed, waiting.  
  
One of the figures finally spoke.  
  
"It is time," he said, pointing ahead.The group hurried forward,   
dumping their packs in the sand. The other two broke out the shovels and   
began to dig, throwing sand aside at inhuman speeds. Finally, there came the   
sound of metal on metal, and the first man bent, brushing sand off a small,   
hematite-coloured box.  
  
"Ahh..." he whispered, "Revenant. Soon, Kahamet, you shall rise. Out of   
the ashes of the Cleansing you shall be reborn."  
  
He pulled the box from the earth, and opened it slowly. A pile of grayish   
ashes lay in the bottom, glistening in the moonlight. The man smiled.  
  
"Yes. The bridge will be destroyed. And darkness will reign till the end   
of days...."  
  
///  
  
"Oh dear..." Giles muttered, looking up from a dusty tome he was studying,   
the others -- including Angel, Cordelia and Wesley -- wincing at hearing those   
words from the man.  
  
He tapped the book excitedly with his finger.  
  
"I've found it! The prophecy. It's right here..." he continued, reading   
from the book. " 'The child of light'...Which we have established as being   
a reference to Buffy...'shall be the consecrator of the bridge'...." The   
watcher frowned. He slammed the book shut. "More riddles." He sighed and   
removed his glasses, leaning back in his chair.  
  
It had been two days since the Cleansing, and they knew they were running   
out of time. The Scoobies plus the Fang Gang had spent hours researching,   
and had found nothing.  
  
"But I don't understand." Buffy broke the silence. "If I am this Child of   
Light, then who am I supposed to give my soul to?"  
  
"I don't..." Giles started, only to be interrupted by Cordy.  
  
"The Bridge..." she said softly, and everyone turned to look at her. Her   
eyes were glazed, she looked as if she were asleep.  
  
"Cordy?" Angel said, worry thick in his voice. He moved to her side, and   
took her hand. "What about the Bridge?"  
  
"The Bridge....The shade of gray," the seer continued, her head swaying   
slightly.  
  
Buffy frowned, watching the entranced girl. "I'm supposed to give my   
soul to a BRIDGE?" she asked skeptically.  
  
"The Darkness and the Light..." Cordy whispered. "The in-between. Evil   
and Good. The Opposites must be joined...."  
  
Spike frowned, listening. Even after puzzling out Drusilla's banter for   
over a hundred years, he still couldn't understand what the girl meant.  
  
The seer's eyes suddenly flashed, and turned on Spike and Buffy. Her voice   
rose, taking on a tone none of them knew she possessed.  
  
"The Bridge will be consecrated in the Child's Blood. The Binding of one   
soul into two." She closed her eyes. "The Bridge will taste the blood of the   
Child...." She trailed off, and slumped into Angel's arms, asleep.  
  
Dead silence filled the room for more than a minute.  
  
Giles was the first to speak.  
  
"The Bridge will taste...The Bridge is a person, no doubt. Most likely one   
of us...." he trailed off. "The Darkness and the Light, Good and Evil..."  
  
Buffy frowned, and looked to Spike.  
  
"The Opposites must be joined..." she continued for Giles, her eyes   
widening a little.  
  
Giles looked at her, then looked at Spike.  
  
"Oh dear..." he muttered once again.  
  
Spike blinked, looking between the two of them.  
  
"What?"  
  
Giles sighed, and replaced his glasses firmly on his nose, before meeting   
Spike's eyes.  
  
"You, Spike. You are the Bridge."  
  
///  
  
"So, you're saying that Spike has to FEED from Buffy? Anyone else seeing the   
wrong here?" Xander raged, slamming his chair back under the table as he   
rose.  
  
"Xander, I really don't think..." Giles began.  
  
"No, he's right." Angel said. "This is...wrong. How can this help?   
Giving Spike a soul?"  
  
" 'Ello, still 'ere. And not wantin' a soddin' soul," Spike spoke up.  
  
Everyone ignored him.  
  
"If we are to have any chance at all in defeating this...Darkness, then we   
must do everything in our power to assure that events happen as they are   
supposed to. Prophecies are tricky things. They find a way of coming true   
even if you try to stop them. And most of the time, things end up worse in   
the end if you work against them."  
  
"So, you're saying, no matter what we do, the world is going to end? Then   
why bother?" Buffy asked, pacing.  
  
"No, I'm saying that we must play the hand we are dealt. There is never   
any certainty of which side will win. If Spike and Buffy must be bound to   
one another in order to have a fighting chance, then that is what we must   
do." The watcher's voice rose, his tone brooking no argument.  
  
Buffy sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "Then what do we do?   
How are we supposed to bind to each other?"  
  
Willow spoke up meekly. "I, uh...know a spell. It seems to be the   
way to go....Since blood seems to be the...uh...catalyst."  
  
Everyone turned to her.  
  
"I can do it...If uh...Giles will help." she trailed off.  
  
Giles sighed.  
  
"Yes, since it seems to be our only option. What will we need?"  
  
"Uh, just a few things, that we should have here at the shop. And, uh,   
Spike and Buffy of course..."  
  
Buffy nodded. "Then we do it. How long will it take you to prepare?"  
  
"A few hours." The witch said, sitting up straighter, feeling more   
important.  
  
"Alright." The slayer turned to Spike, who looked as if he was looking for   
the quickest way out.  
  
"We need to do this, Spike. Are you with me?" she asked softly.  
  
"What am I gonna do with a bleedin' soul? I don't wanna be another bloody   
Peaches!" he half whined, half yelled.  
  
Angel glowered at him.  
  
"We'll deal with it, alright? This has to be done! Spike, I need you on   
this...Will you do it?"  
  
The vampire looked from her, to the door, and back again. Finally, he   
sighed.  
  
"Alright, I'll do it!" He couldn't deny his Slayer anything.  
  
She smiled and pecked him on the lips, which the others chose to ignore.   
No need in bringing up the issue until the current crisis was over.  
  
Buffy turned, placing her hands on her hips.  
  
"Alright. Willow, Giles, tell us what we need to do, and then get ready.   
The rest of you, keep at the research. We need more answers. In an hour,   
we're doing the ritual."  
  
Spike sighed and slumped onto the couch.  
  
"Bloody hell...." 


	10. Blood Bond

Spike paced in the training room of the Magic Box, grumbling to himself.   
He needed to be alone. He didn't want a soul, he didn't want to be this   
Bridge. He liked who he was. He had changed so much already, he didn't   
know if he could handle a soul -- just the thought of being reduced to his   
pathetic ponce of a grandsire.  
  
  
He had killed countless people, and enjoyed every minute of it -- before   
he was chipped. He didn't feel bad about it; he didn't regret his actions. But   
even he didn't know if he could do it again. He was a monster, true. But   
before, people were just food. Fodder. Now he lived among them. He loved   
two of them, his slayer and his Niblet. And he dared call the Scoobies his   
friends, though they would probably pale at that idea.  
  
  
Sod it. He was still who he was. A bleedin' soul wasn't going to change   
that.  
  
  
His internal tirade was interrupted when Buffy opened the door.  
  
  
"It's time."  
  
  
///  
  
  
  
Buffy and Spike sat, facing each other, in the middle of a chalk circle   
drawn on the floor. Candles illuminated the room, smoke from incense hung   
thick in the air. They stared into each other's eyes, concentrating on one   
another.  
  
  
"Take her hand, and stand, both of you." Willow commanded, from the   
sidelines, where she and Giles stood, ready to do the ritual.  
  
  
Spike did as he was told, helping the Slayer to her feet. The touch of her   
warm skin on his thrilled him as always, leaving his senses tingling.  
  
  
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, resting his   
forehead on her shoulder. Willow had told him he would know when the time   
was right, that the magic would take control.  
  
  
He knew Buffy was nervous; her heart hammered in her chest, her breath came   
in little gasps. He rubbed his hand in small circles on the small of her   
back, attempting to calm her.  
  
  
"Aether, we summon thee, come forth for the Child of Light, and witness   
this blessed event." Giles spoke.  
  
  
"Hecate, we summon thee, come forth for the Child of the Night, and witness   
this blessed event." Willow spoke, her voice raising, blending with the   
echoes of the Watcher's words.  
  
  
The air in the room thickened. Spike could taste it. His own unneeded   
breath sped up; if his heart beat, it would have matched the pace of Buffy's.  
  
  
Together, the Watcher and the witch continued.  
  
  
"Kastor and Polydeukes, we summon thee, to bind these warriors, one of   
darkness, one of light. Bind her soul to him, make them one."  
  
  
The room crackled with energy. A swirling greenish light flared up around   
the vampire and the Slayer, tendrils of green licking their forms like flames.  
  
  
"By the blood they shall be bound. By the blood they shall be bound..."  
  
  
Spike suddenly could no longer hear the chanting. Buffy's blood sang out   
to him, calling him. He felt his face change, bones shifting as the demon   
came forth. Panting, he pulled his head up, and looked into her eyes. She   
stared back at him, fear glistening in her gaze.  
  
  
"Do it."  
  
  
Whether or not it was Buffy who spoke, Spike couldn't tell. But he obeyed,   
bending to her throat. He licked her skin gently, savoring its taste, before   
sinking his fangs into her golden flesh. The blood immediately spilled into   
his mouth, Slayer blood, ambrosia. He drank greedily, suckling her neck. Pure   
light. It tasted like light.  
  
  
His body weakened, and he sank to his knees, still holding her, drinking   
her, caught in a half swoon. He moaned against her throat. The first   
Slayer he had drunk from had been nothing like this. This was energy, love,   
pleasure and pain, pure emotion. She burned him from the inside out,   
filling him, tearing him apart and rebuilding him from nothing. She swam   
through his dead veins, giving him life, filling him with the light of her   
being. His heart throbbed in time with hers, his dead heart beating for   
the first time in over a hundred and fifty years, before it stilled once   
again.  
  
  
He pulled his head back, the demon retreating, still clutching her   
shuddering form to his chest. His muscles slowly went limp, and he fell   
backward, moaning.  
  
  
Voices whispered in his head. The room crumbled away to nothing, and he   
floated in a void. Light flooded his vision, but he wasn't afraid of it. It   
was warm, like a mother's arms, enfolding him, protecting him.  
  
  
Drusilla danced suddenly before him in flashing frames, moving closer. She   
was before him and far away, and her voice whispered to him.  
  
  
"You are the Bridge, my William. Don't let them bleed you."  
  
  
And she was gone.  
  
  
People suddenly surrounded him, millions of people. Their hands reaching   
for him. Before they vanished as well.  
  
  
The feeling changed. The warmth became pain, burning, searing. A   
beautiful woman appeared, her form huge, screaming in rage and hate. Flames   
leapt up between them, and he shied back.  
  
  
"The Darkness is coming, Bridge. I am coming. The night sings for blood,"   
the woman said, her voice terrible and full of evil even he wasn't capable of.  
  
  
"Your blood." the void wavered.  
  
  
"Spike!"  
  
  
His eyes flashed open, the real world returning with a crash.  
  
  
Giles and Willow stood over him, peering down. The witch was shaking him.  
  
  
"Bloody....hell..." he managed to gasp, his eyes wide and wild, as the   
guilt and remorse of all that he had done flooded over him.  
  
  
He struggled with it for a moment, forgetting about Giles and Willow, not   
seeking to question about the Slayer, just trying to come to terms with it all.   
He was a strong man, a stronger monster. He wouldn't become the brooding ponce.   
It's the past, it's the past, he repeated to himself, clenching his fists so hard   
his nails bit into the flesh of his palms. The face of everyone he had ever   
killed floated before him, one at a time, taunting him. He lost track of time   
as he whispered an apology to each one, mentally absolving himself. For now,   
at least. He had to get control. He couldn't break down, not now, not when   
things had to be done. Not ever.  
  
  
The past was the past. Worrying about it, brooding over it, wouldn't   
change a thing. His actions now were what mattered. He could still be who   
he was, still be the Big Bad.  
  
  
He finally returned to himself again, looking up at the worried faces of   
Red, Giles and his Slayer. He smiled a little, and forced his head up   
slightly.  
  
  
"Sorry." he told them all, and fell back into darkness.  
  
  
/// 


	11. Enemies

Three men stood on the mouth of Hell. Firelight flickered, illuminating   
the room, casting shadows throughout the cavern. They chanted, their arms   
outstretched over a small box. Magic swirled about them, a vortex of   
glimmering colour.  
  
Drawing a breath, each one pulled a silver athame from his sleeve, slowly   
pulling the sharp blade over the flesh of his wrist.  
  
One bent and opened the box, and each held a bleeding wrist over it, the   
red vitae splashing in the ashes contained within.  
  
"Rise, Kahamet!" one shouted, his long black hair stirring in the energy.   
"Rise and reclaim what is yours!"  
  
Breath stilled. The box exploded. Brillant lights flashed, before   
darkness fell. And all was still.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Spike paced, barely listening to the discussions of the group. They had   
kept him on a tight leash since the ritual, fearing he was too weak to go on   
patrol. It was nerve-wracking the way they coddled him. All he wanted to   
do was kill something. And quickly.  
  
"The reports say that a mark was left on the victims, cut into their skin.   
I was able to get a look, and discovered it was the mark of the Obsek demons,"   
the Watcher was saying.  
  
"Obsek? Where do I find them, and how are they killed?" Buffy said,   
crossing her arms.  
  
"From what I've been able to gather, they hunt in packs, and seek shelter   
in places of filth. They are sometimes mercenaries, have little language --   
but that's all I've found."  
  
"Places of filth?" Xander asked. "Like, the sewers, junkyards?"  
  
"Yes. Something like that."  
  
"Then we split up. They've killed 15 people so far, I gotta stop them.   
Giles, Anya, you guys stay here and keep researching on this...end of the   
world thing." The Slayer snapped her head to Angel. "Angel, Cordy, take   
the sewers. Xander, Willow, topside. Cemeteries, alleys, whatever. Spike and  
I'll take the junkyard." She rolled her eyes at Spike's elated look.   
"If you find them, come back here. Don't try and take them on alone. Alright?   
Let's go."  
  
She grabbed a sword from the table and started toward the door, Spike on   
her heels.  
  
"Buffy?" Angel asked, standing.  
  
She turned around.  
  
"Be careful."  
  
She nodded, and gave him a small smile, before disappearing out the door.  
  
"You too, Spike." he continued.  
  
"Same to you, Peaches," the vampire called out before the door slammed behind him.  
  
///  
  
  
The junkyard was quiet. A few rats were all they had found so far.   
Spike idly kicked a tin can, looking around.  
  
"This is bloody boring," he announced, lighting a cigarette. "I don't   
think they're 'ere, Slayer. Can we go?"  
  
She turned around, watching him.  
  
"Yeah, I guess." She paused. "How are you? You're alright...Right?"  
  
Spike sighed, smoke trailing from his lips.  
  
"Yes, I am fine. I wish people would stop askin'. Jus' cause I'm not   
moping around like Peaches...."  
  
"Sorry! God, I can't be worried?"  
  
Spike lifted his head skyward, closing his eyes.  
  
"Look, luv, I'm sorry, but it's jus' bleedin' annoying how everyone is   
usin' kid gloves on me." He stepped closer to her, looking into her eyes.   
"I'm. Fine. I'm still the same vampire I was before. I can deal with it.   
Alright? We've got more ta worry 'bout than my less than fragile psyche,   
alright?"  
  
She smiled, and opened her mouth to respond.  
  
"I really hate to break up this beautiful moment..."  
  
They both spun around, adopting fighting stances, to see two men, dressed   
in black, flanked by three huge, reddish-coloured demons.  
  
"Who are you?" Buffy asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.  
  
One of the men chuckled, and stepped forward, idly playing with a lock of   
long black hair.  
  
"I'm Vincent. And you? You're dead."  
  
The demons rushed forward, growling. Buffy took the opportunity to   
flip one over her back, throwing him with a crash into a rusty double decker   
bus.  
  
The other two attacked Spike. He leapt and spun, his boot-clad foot   
smashing the face of the first, before landing and throwing a punch into the   
throat of the other. The first veered off, deciding the Slayer would be an   
easier target. It surprised the girl, picking her up and sending her sailing   
through the front windshield of the bus. She landed with a crash, taking out   
one of the poles in the aisle. The demon jumped through the hole it had made,   
quickly followed by another. Buffy stood, shaking glass from her hair, and   
backed off a few paces as they both rushed her. Her blade arced, slicing   
the throat of the first before the second tackled her to the ground.  
  
Meanwhile, Spike was having a blast. Pounding on the demon did wonders   
for his frustration. He punched it twice in the face and snarled, grabbing   
its shoulders. It head-butted him, causing him to stagger back a few   
paces.  
  
"Stop!" Vincent shouted, stepping forward. The demon stopped, and lowered   
its head. The man grinned, walking slowly toward Spike, who eyed him while   
wiping blood from his nose. "It'd do Kahamet's heart sorrow if you harmed him...  
before she could."  
  
Spike raised a brow, and chuckled to himself.  
  
"So this is a kidnapping then?" he licked his lips. "Think you can take   
me?" He bounced on his feet, grinning.  
  
"I know all about you, Spike. For one..." the man said calmly, folding his   
arms behind his back, "you are the Bridge."  
  
Spike blinked. Not good.  
  
"Yeah, wha' of it?"  
  
Vincent smiled patiently.  
  
"Well, we do need you if we are going to return Kahamet to full power."  
  
He gestured and the other man stepped up, swinging a bat at Spike's face.   
The vampire just shrugged and ducked the move, slamming his fist into the   
man's stomach, sending him to his knees.  
  
Pain exploded in Spike's head, lacing outward to his temples. He yelped   
and staggered back, pressing a hand to his forehead.  
  
"I also know that you cannot harm us," Vincent said with a grin.  
  
Now Spike was worried. Bleedin' humans. He turned around, dead set on   
running away, and was stopped by a large hunk of metal slamming into his   
mouth.  
  
Again, he stumbled backward, looking at the other two men who had appeared   
out of nowhere.  
  
"Bloody hell..." he muttered, as they rushed him. He ducked, tripping one   
of them. The chip punished him once again for the move, but he tried to   
ignore the pain. The other two the men grabbed his arms, as the first came at him from   
the front. He pulled his body up, leaning on the two that held him, and   
smashed his feet into the third man's face, breaking his nose with a   
sickening crunch. The force of the blow sent bone shards into the man's   
brain, killing him instantly.  
  
The chip went off, searing Spike's head. He screamed in agony, blood   
pouring from his nose. His body jerked as the thing punished him for killing the   
man. His eyes rolled back and he gritted his teeth. He went limp in the   
arms of the two men.  
  
"Bring him. The lady won't be kept waiting."  
  
  
///  
  
Buffy heard Spike scream. She whipped her head to the side, trying to peer   
out the bus's dirty windows, but could see nothing. She cursed and brought   
her sword up to block the metal pole the demon had picked up as a weapon. She   
shoved back, throwing the demon away from her, and brought her sword up as it rushed   
again, impaling it through the middle.  
  
Abandoning the sword, she jumped over the bodies of the demons, and climbed   
out the front windshield.  
  
"Spike?" she asked, looking around, cold fear clenching at her chest.  
  
She saw nothing. The body of a man lay on the ground, his head haloed in   
a pool of blood. The scene wavered as her eyes filled with tears.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
Her voice barely whispered through the dead of the night. 


	12. Fadeing

Angel sighed and stopped, running his fingers through his hair. This is   
utterly pointless, he thought, scanning the area around him and Cordelia.   
The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, and stank of the waste of the city   
above. The only light came from the small flashlight clutched in his   
companion's hand.  
  
  
"Of all the stinky places, we get the sewers. Buffy must really hate me,"   
the girl fumed, toeing something on the ground with disgust.  
  
  
"She doesn't hate you, she's just worried, Cordy." The vampire took a final   
glance around. "I don't think we're going to find anything here. Let's   
head back."  
  
  
"Thank God." Cordelia muttered, stepping lightly behind him, shuddering.  
  
  
They walked in silence for a long while, before the girl stopped Angel,   
placing a small hand on his arm. He turned around, looking curiously at her   
inquiring face.  
  
  
"Spill," she said, raising her eyebrows slightly.  
  
  
Angel sighed, and furrowed his brow.  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
"I know you're all stressed out about something. What is it? It's Spike,   
isn't it? You're jealous." She said the last with a touch of hurt in her   
voice.  
  
  
"No! I'm not..." He turned away, wanting to look anywhere else but her   
eyes. "It's just...I worry about her, alright? Yes, I still love her...But   
not like that. We both know that that part of our lives is over. I just   
don't want Spike hurting her, is all."  
  
  
He felt her step up behind him, and hesitantly, she slipped an arm around   
his waist.  
  
  
"I don't think he would, Angel. Did you see the way he looked at her?"  
  
  
The vampire chuckled.  
  
  
"Yeah. I did. And he's really possessive about Dawn. It's...." he   
chuckled again. "Really funny, actually."  
  
  
Cordelia chuckled as well, pulling him around to face her. Her face   
had that look she got sometimes, almost motherly.  
  
  
"No more worrying, alright?" Both of her eyebrows raised. "We have other   
stuff to deal with right now."  
  
  
Angel smiled a little sideways, and took her face in his hands. He brushed   
a kiss on her forehead and petted her hair absently, before pulling her into   
a hug. She sighed softly, and lay her cheek against his chest.  
  
  
They stood there for awhile, simply content to hold each other. The moment   
was soon over, as he felt her stiffen before her heartbeat increased. He   
held her tighter, knowing what was coming. She cried out in pain, and her   
knees gave out, her small frame supported only by the vampire.  
  
  
"Oh god.." she gasped, holding her head. "The junkyard." Her muscles   
seized, and the vision hit her with full force. "Spike...someone's got   
him..." she trailed off, the vision fading away, leaving her weak and   
disoriented. Angel still supported her, worrying his lip.  
  
  
"We'd better get back." She nodded slightly against his chest.  
  
  
He swept her up in his arms and hurried back to the Magic Box.  
  
  
///  
  
  
(Hey now...)  
(All you sinners...)  
(Put your lights on...)  
(Put your lights on...)  
(Hey now...)  
(All you lovers...)  
(Put your lights on...)  
(Put your lights on...)  
(Hey now..)  
(All you killers...)  
(Put your lights on..)  
(Put your lights on...)  
(Hey now...)  
(All you children...)  
(Leave your lights on..)  
(You better leave your lights on...)  
  
  
Everyone left in the magic shop looked up as the bell over the door chimed,   
and Buffy slowly walked in. Alone. Dawn, who had arrived only moments   
before with Tara, felt her heart stiffen.  
  
  
"Buffy?" she asked, her lower lip trembling.  
  
  
Willow shot out of her seat and crossed the room, putting an arm around her   
friend, greatly disturbed by the lost look in her face.  
  
  
"What happened?" the witch asked, biting her lip. Buffy shook her head. The   
redhead opened her mouth to speak. "Where's Spike?"  
  
  
As Willow said those words, Buffy choked back a sob.  
  
  
"I...I lost him. There was fighting, and then he was gone...I looked for   
ashes...I couldn't find any...." She broke down in earnest now, clutching at   
Willow for support.  
  
  
Flicking a glance to Giles, Willow guided the distraught Slayer to a chair.   
Buffy fell forward and sobbed into her arms.  
  
  
"He could be dead...somewhere...and we'd never know! He could be gone for   
good..." she gasped out between tears.  
  
  
Dawn felt tears slipping down her cheeks. She had lost so much, her Mom,   
then her sister. It didn't matter that her sister was back now, she still   
remembered the pain of losing her. She couldn't lose Spike. But she kept   
it together.  
  
  
"You'll find him, Buffy.." she whispered, wrapping her arms around her   
sister. "You will..."  
  
  
///  
  
  
(Cause there's a monster..)  
(Living under my bed...)  
(Whispering in my ear...)  
(And there's an angel...)  
(With her hand on my head....)  
(She say I got nothin' to fear...)  
(But there's a darkness...)  
(Living deep in my soul...)  
(It's still got a purpose to serve...)  
(So let your light shine...)  
(Deep into my hole...)  
(God, don't let me lose my nerve...)  
(Don't let me lose my nerve...)  
  
  
Spike came awake slowly, drifting back to awareness with the sluggishness   
of one who'd slept for days. His eyes fluttered open, confused, trying to   
figure out where he was.  
  
  
"He awakens..." a soft voice spoke.  
  
  
He licked his lips, stormy blue eyes darting around. He was chained,   
again, though this time his feet were on the floor, much to his relief. He   
was in a small cavern, underground, he could tell, by the coolness in the   
air. A single torch lit the area in flickering waves, throwing shadows   
around the cavern.  
  
  
"No threats of violence?" the sublime voice continued. "Not what I   
expected from William the Bloody..."  
  
  
Spike cleared his throat, his head still aching from the blast from the   
chip that had knocked him out.  
  
  
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice sounding more cracked than he had   
wanted.  
  
  
She chuckled softly, stepping into his view. She looked weak, this   
woman...vampire, he corrected, as he heard no heartbeat. She was very thin   
and pale, a waif of a creature. Long, plaited black hair hung down her   
shoulders in waves, extending past her waist.  
  
  
"I am Kahamet, lover. And you are mine."  
  
  
Spike scoffed, a little of his brashness returning.  
  
  
"Like 'ell I am. Listen, you stupid git, let me go or.."  
  
  
"Or what?" she interrupted. "You will curse at me from your bindings?"   
she chuckled again. "Amusing, yes. A threat? No." she moved closer. "I   
need you, Bridge. You will restore my health. It is your destiny. Why not   
just accept it? You should be honored."  
  
  
Spike rolled his head, and laughed, pulling at the chains.  
  
"No one'd be 'honored' to be 'round you, luv. Got some scent issues..."  
  
  
"Silence!" she barked, cracking him across the face with the back of her   
hand. Not weak, he corrected, spitting out blood from a split lip. What   
was it about it him that caused amazingly strong bitches to want to put him   
in chains and make him bleed?  
  
  
"You will help, no matter what you think. It is your nature." she grinned   
sadistically, pulling out a long silver blade. Oh great, he thought, here   
comes the bleeding part. He was suddenly reminded of the vision he had had,   
after feeding off Buffy, of Drusilla, reminding him not to let them bleed   
him. He found himself very disturbed.  
  
  
"In your weakest state, you are nothing but an animal." she continued,   
running the blade over his chest lightly, not drawing blood, but eliciting a   
shiver from him. "You will do whatever I command. You know it."  
  
  
"Sod off," he bit out bitterly. I am so royally fucked, he thought. She   
lashed out again, smashing him in the nose with the butt of the blade.   
Cursing, he shied back on instinct, turning his head to the side.  
  
  
"Ahh...There you are." she whispered. Before he could turn his head to   
look at her, he felt her fangs sink into his throat.  
  
  
His eyes widened and he jerked, coughing out a yelp of surprise more than   
of pain. It didn't hurt all that much, of course, but he struggled nonetheless.   
Nothing felt more violating than to have one's life blood drained away by someone   
stronger. Irony, he thought, feeling himself weaken. Now he knew how his victims   
had felt.  
  
  
He was finally able to lift up his leg and knee her away from him. She   
chuckled manically, wiping away a touch of his blood from her lips.  
  
  
"Delicious," she purred, watching him for a moment. He was breathing   
hard, and wondering why, since he didn't have to breathe. Habit, he supposed.   
He just hung there, glaring at her, trembling.  
  
  
"Stay the hell away from me."  
  
  
She giggled, swaying softly, and came closer.  
  
  
  
(Hey now..)  
(All you sinners..)  
(Put your lights on...)  
(Put your lights on...)  
(Hey now...)  
(All you children...)  
(Leave your lights on...)  
(You better leave your lights on...)  
  
  
He kicked out blindly at her, with force enough to crack a brick wall. She   
caught his ankle easily, clucking her tongue. She hit him again, hard, his   
cheekbone cracking under the pressure. His vision swam, and she pressed up against   
him, tilting his head to one side and biting into his flesh once more, making a new   
mark on the side she hadn't touched.  
  
  
He stiffened again, his eyes lolling. He could feel himself slipping away.   
He knew if he did, she would have her beast. He wouldn't be able to control himself,   
drained dry and starved for blood.  
  
  
(Cause there's a monster...)  
(Living under my bed...)  
(Whispering in my ear...)  
(And there's an angel...)  
(With her hand on my head...)  
(She say I got nothin' to fear...)  
  
  
He summoned up the last of his strength, struggling uselessly. She enjoyed   
it too much, purring as she drained him. Finally, as his vision darkened, he   
pulled up the image of his girls, Buffy and Dawn, holding on to it, with   
everything he had, willing himself to stay conscious.  
  
  
(She said...)  
(Hey la la...)  
(We oughtta shine like stars...)  
  
  
His eyes were glazed and unseeing, finally, when she pulled away. He hung   
loosely, his breath slower than a mortal could stand, keeping the habit up,   
concentrating on the pictures in his head. Buffy. Dawn.  
  
  
(Don't let me fade away.......) 


	13. Old Friends, Broken Thoughts

Willow was still trying to console her friend, ten minutes after Angel and Cordy had   
arrived.  
  
  
"Buffy, you would know if he was dead..er...You're bound, remember? You can   
find him if you concentrate. Come on!" the witch gently shook her sobbing   
friend. "Crying isn't going to help right now!"  
  
  
Buffy sniffled and looked up, staring at all of them for a moment, before   
blinking slowly, one last tear sinking from her eyes.  
  
  
"You're..you're right." She wiped at her face angrily, and stood, shaking her   
arms out as if they were sore. "We've got work to do; I don't have the time   
to break down."  
  
  
She looked expectantly to Giles, who met her gaze and ripped his   
glasses off, tossing them down on the table next to the book he was poring   
through.  
  
  
"I wish I had a solution for you, but I have nothing new to offer. All the   
writings simply repeat the same litany: the world will end if the Bridge,   
which we have established as being Spike, is destroyed. You, as the Child in the   
prophecy, must eventually sell your soul for him. The binding was essential for one   
reason: that we might have a chance to stop whoever took Spike from killing   
him, by finding him before that happens. The rest is just bloody riddles and   
nonsense."  
  
  
Buffy sighed, and crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly.  
  
  
"So what are we supposed to do?" she asked, a hint of pleading in her   
voice.  
  
  
"Try and get some rest, Buffy. At least an hour. Then, we'll work together  
to locate Spike. For now, that is all we can do. I will continue here with   
Xander and Anya. Willow?" He looked to the witch. "I want you and Tara to   
find a spell of some sort, anything that could help us. Perhaps, barring   
horrible dreams, something akin to what we did to defeat Adam. Angel? Call   
Faith, and get her here as soon as possible. Pull strings, do whatever it takes,   
but get her out of prison and get her here. We need all the power we can muster."  
  
  
Angel nodded and left his post next to Cordy, moving to the phone.   
Willow, after an uncomfortable shared look with her estranged lover, followed   
the girl up the stairs into the upper level of the shop.  
  
  
Buffy rolled her shoulders, feeling totally useless. She absently   
petted Dawn's hair, knowing that her sister was being strong for her sake,   
but was as torn up about this as she was. The youngest Summers gave her a   
small smile.  
  
  
"Go sleep. I'll hold down the fort," she said with a shy grin.  
  
  
Buffy gave a forced chuckle and nodded. She moved off toward the   
training room, giving one last look around the busy room, and disappeared   
behind the door.  
  
  
///  
  
Buffy dreamed.  
  
  
She stood in a dark room, surrounded by the scent of blood. Firelight   
flickered, throwing haphazard shadows at the walls. Spike hung motionless   
in chains, his head resting against his chest.  
  
  
She started towards him, when a woman appeared before her, laughing. Rage   
flowed through the Slayer, and she whipped out her stake, shoving it into   
the vampiress's heart. Buffy looked up to smirk at the bitch before she   
turned to dust, and her heart leapt into her throat. It was Spike that   
stared at her, confusion on his face, before he disintegrated.  
  
  
She woke up screaming, hugging her knees to her chest. Gulping in air like   
a woman drowning, she pushed off the mat that served as a makeshift bed and got to   
her feet, trembling.  
  
  
"Giles!" she stormed out into the main room.  
  
  
All eyes turned to her.  
  
  
"I had another dream, and there was this woman, and I killed her, but then   
it was Spike that I killed, and does this mean I kill Spike?" her lower lip   
trembled.  
  
  
"Oh, Buffy, no." Giles rose from his seat, moving to give his Slayer a much   
needed hug. "No....It could mean many things....You mustn't assume the worst. I   
don't think a literal interpretation is called for...."  
  
  
She pushed away from him, pacing.  
  
  
"That's not good enough, Giles! I need to know what to do!"  
  
  
Angel cleared his throat.  
  
  
"I got Faith out. She's on her way, she'll be here in a few hours.   
Until then, we just wait."  
  
  
Buffy turned her rage-filled eyes on him for a moment, before calming. She   
took a deep breath.  
  
  
"Well, now I can't sleep. I'm going to train." She spun on her heel and   
returned to the training room.  
  
  
  
///  
  
  
  
The scent was what woke him. Lapping at his battered senses like the   
moon-driven waves, snapping him to attention when he would rather return to the   
dreamless sleep of unconsciousness. It had first touched his nose, flowing   
through his nostrils like a snake, jerking his head up and his eyes open.  
  
  
Through the dim haze that had become his world, he saw the woman again,   
holding a silver chalice. It was important, somehow, this place, this   
woman, but he couldn't remember. As she came closer, he watched her   
curiously, something tugging at his memory that just didn't want to   
register. The pictures of the girls, the blonde and beautiful one, and the   
slighter dark-haired one, kept floating past his eyes. THEY were important,   
he knew. It pissed him off that he couldn't remember their names. But they   
were important. He held onto that.  
  
  
The woman (a name -- Kahamet -- for a moment, before it was lost again)   
held the cup out to him, passing it under his nose. He finally recognized what it   
was before him, and his body sang with bloodlust, sweeping away everything   
else. The girls floated at the edges of his vision, not quite pushed away,   
but at this moment, the blood was more important.  
  
  
He licked his lips, straining his head out to taste the cup, but she pulled   
it back. He whimpered and bucked in his chains, not even wondering WHY he   
was chained. He hurt so bad, and the scent of the blood was pulling sharply at his   
dead veins.  
  
  
"Shh, lover. Just showing you who is in control here," the woman   
whispered, and then brought the cup back to him.  
  
  
He lapped at it like a dog, until she tilted it, allowing it to fill   
his mouth before he swallowed, his parched lips and throat screaming in   
exultation. But it wasn't enough. Oh lord, it wasn't enough, as the cup   
emptied and she pulled it away. He licked his lips again, whimpering,   
knowing only that he wanted more, but not recalling how to ask for more.  
  
  
As the small amount of blood rejuvenated him slightly, the girls returned   
to his foremost thoughts, their faces replacing that of the woman's before him.   
Buffy. Dawn. Their names! He smiled a little, before letting his body   
relax again, sweeping himself back into the sleep of the dead. They were   
important, he knew.  
  
  
///  
  
  
When he awoke again, she was still there, and had the cup again. But he   
didn't remember her from before, from when she had fed him earlier, from   
when he had been captured. Nothing but the now, and the girls. Such pretty   
girls, they were. He wondered where he had seen them. That thought was   
shrugged aside as she gave him the cup again, replaced by the ecstasy of the   
blood.  
  
  
She gave him three more cups before he became something of himself again.   
Spike. Yeah, that's who he was, William the fucking Bloody. She must have   
registered the change in his eyes.  
  
  
"It's almost time, Bridge," she said casually as she set the cup down.   
She looked a lot better, thanks to his blood, he guessed. He snarled, remembering   
that Buffy was counting on him. He had to keep her here, with him. Her and   
Dawn.  
  
  
Kahamet approached, using one hand to hold his back against the wall   
before sinking her teeth into his already sore throat. This time, it ached. He   
threw curses at her, struggling while he could, while he was once again   
drained of his lifeblood. His knees weakened and his struggling stopped.   
Squeezing his eyes shut, he called out with all his being to his Slayer,   
before the light melted before him, and darkness overtook him. The cycle   
began again for the fourth time.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Buffy, pacing, suddenly stopped, her muscles tensing, her eyes wide. Her   
hand flew to her throat, as if she were injured, and she moaned, sinking to   
her knees.  
  
  
"Oh god.." she said as the world swam back into focus. Spike needed her.   
For a second there, she had sworn she was feeling his pain.  
  
  
Angel and Xander were at her side, helping her to her feet.  
  
  
"What happened?" the vampire asked, steadying her with a strong arm.  
  
  
"This binding thing...." she whispered, staring around her wildly for a   
moment. "I know where Spike is."  
  
  
At that moment, the bell chimed to announce someone entering the Magic Box.   
Nine heads whipped around, looking to the newcomer.  
  
  
Faith stood, a bag slung over her shoulder, her hair in tangles. She still   
wore a prison uniform. She almost appeared sheepish, which was laughable,   
considering who they were looking at. She looked at the floor, before   
looking up again and meeting Buffy's eyes for a moment.  
  
  
  
"Hey B." she said, with a little wave.   
  
  
Silence.  
  
  
A sly grin from the dark haired Slayer took in all in the room.  
  
  
"So, you guys miss me or what?"  
  
/// 


	14. Alea Jacta Est

Faith absently chewed on her thumb, listening to the others' plan. She hung   
back, leaning against the counter, not sure of her place anymore. After   
all, she had tried to kill most of them in the past. They had no reason to   
trust her.  
  
  
Angel had given her a friendly hug when she walked in, which she stiffly   
returned. No one else had said more than two words to her, aside from   
business.  
  
  
"We have to get Spike out first." Buffy said, crossing her arms.  
  
At a look from Xander, she added. "Not just because I love him. If he's   
killed, if the bridge is destroyed, the world ends. Right?" she asked,   
turning to Giles for confirmation.  
  
  
"Yes. I believe it has something to do with the balance that the powers   
strive so hard to keep. Spike is the gray, he is both good and evil, and   
someone connects to the two sides to one another. If he is killed, it will   
be akin to cutting a thread in the center; both sides will fly apart. The   
balance will be overthrown."  
  
  
Buffy nodded, chewing on a hangnail.  
  
  
"So.." Xander started. "We mount up, bust in, crack heads, get Spike out.   
This chick you saw can't have that many minons...."  
  
  
He looked around the table. "Right?"  
  
  
"We've no idea what stands before us, but, sadly, Xander's plan, such as it  
is, seems to be the most viable...." Giles sighed.  
  
  
"Alright. Weapons. Xander, axe, stakes of course." The blonde Slayer   
once again took charge.  
  
  
"Willow? You're going to have to use big magic." she met her friend's eyes.   
"Can you handle it?"  
  
  
The redhead sighed, sliding a glance to Tara. "If...if Tara helps...I   
think I can do it...."  
  
  
Tara gave her a slight smile.  
  
  
"Alright then. No sunlight spells, we've got two vamps on our side. Anya?   
Can you stay here with Dawn?"  
  
  
Dawn stood up, pouting.  
  
  
"But, Buffy, I want to help! Spike is MY friend too..."  
  
  
"Dawn, Buffy's right, we can't risk you, alright?" Angel said, earning a   
glare from the girl that could curdle milk.  
  
  
She slumped back into her seat, crossing her arms.  
  
  
"Fine."  
  
  
Anya nodded, keeping an eye on Faith, who was too close to the cash   
register for her liking, given what she had heard about the girl's past.  
  
  
"I can do that."  
  
  
Faith gave her a snarky grin.  
  
  
"What do I do, B?"  
  
  
Buffy finally turned her eyes to the other Slayer, before looking away   
again.  
  
  
"Just...back me up. Kill anything that moves that's not us or Spike. You're   
good at that." Her voice sounded slightly bitter.  
  
  
Faith winced, and raised both eyebrows. She stretched an arm and muttered   
under her breath.  
  
  
"Ouch..."  
  
  
No one seemed to hear her.  
  
  
"Daybreak is in an hour. We'll hit it then, easier kills." Everyone   
nodded. "Till then, rest, do...whatever...."  
  
  
Finally backing down from leader Slayer mode, Buffy hugged herself and   
turned away from the group.  
  
  
Anya gathered up Dawn's things, figuring it best to take her home before   
everything went down. The sulking girl in tow, she turned back and looked   
at the room.  
  
  
"I hope nobody dies. Good luck!" she said cheerily. Then flicked a   
glance to Faith. "Don't steal anything."  
  
  
And she and Dawn were gone.  
  
  
///  
  
  
  
Spike slumped to the floor as the chains were removed. Confused, since all   
he had known were the chains, he looked up at his captor.  
  
  
She smiled, petting him on the head like a dog.  
  
  
"It's time, lover. You'll get fed if you do as I say."  
  
  
Spike nodded, wide-eyed. She had his full attention at the word 'fed'.  
  
  
"Rise." she commanded.  
  
  
He tried. He really did. But his legs wouldn't hold the weight of his   
body. Everything hurt, but that was alright. All he knew was pain. Must   
be the way things are.  
  
  
She chuckled lightly, and leaned down, grabbing his arm and hauling him to   
his feet. She dragged him to the center of the room, and released him. He   
fell back to the floor, hardly able to keep himself in a sitting position.  
  
  
She gave him a patronizing smile and knelt before him. He didn't notice   
the circle drawn in black coal around them both, or the candles placed at   
strange intervals, or the demons and men chanting.  
  
  
She picked up the silver athame, toying with the blade for a moment, before   
handing it to him. He looked at it, confused, before looking up at her   
again.  
  
  
Her eyes flickered with amusement, and a smile tugged at her lips once   
again.  
  
  
"You will draw the blade across my wrist when I say. And then, you will   
feed until I tell you to stop. Are we clear?"  
  
  
At the hungry look in his eyes, and the twitching of his hands toward her,   
she glared.  
  
  
"WHEN I say, William."  
  
  
Something sparked. Only for a moment. He frowned, trying to latch onto   
the memory, and growling in frustration when it danced just beyond his   
reach. The girls were still there, though. They were important. He   
didn't know why.  
  
  
She took his growl differently, thinking he was simply frustrated he   
couldn't feed yet. She made a gesture, and the chanting grew louder.  
  
  
Her arms spread out before her, her head lolling back slightly. She took   
up the chant as well, intoning the words perfectly. The air crackled with   
the power of the magics being cast.  
  
  
Spike fidgeted. He didn't care about their silly chanting. He just wanted   
to be fed. And they were taking too long. He whimpered a little, but was   
good, and didn't try to move or take the woman's blood before he was told.  
  
  
Something tingled at the back of his neck, and the pictures of the girls   
grew stronger, the blonde more so than the other. He frowned and pushed   
them to the side again. There were more important things going on at the   
moment.  
  
  
The chanting continued, swelling, rising. He was slightly frightened, the   
magic made him feel itchy and strange, but he ignored it. More important   
things. The girls tried to enter his vision again.  
  
  
"Now, lover!" Kahamet cried, throwing her head back up to meet his eyes.  
  
  
That's all it took. His weak and shuddering arms reached out, grabbing her   
wrist with one hand and slashing hard with the blade in the other. Seeing   
the blood welling up on her skin, he hesitated.  
  
  
But only for a moment. Bloodlust soon swept him out of control, and he   
latched his mouth onto her wrist, pulling in huge draughts of her blood,   
filling his nearly empty veins.  
  
  
It was glorious. Living, pumping blood. Much better than the cups that he   
barely remembered. He was sure he would remember this. He continued to   
drain her, shuddering and purring.  
  
  
Kahamet's eyes gleamed and flashed, azure and red mixing with the dark   
brown of her iris.  
  
  
"The die has been cast..." she grinned, watching her new pet drain her. 


	15. Dust

Buffy waited for everyone to catch up. She knew that she was hurrying, but   
she had a right to, damn it. The sight of her lover crumbling to dust   
before her kept flashing back, leaving her shuddering. The dream haunted   
her. But so did the cavern they were about to enter.  
  
  
It was where she had died the first time. The lair of the Master, an   
ancient vampire as ugly as he was powerful. He had drunk from her, the   
first vampire to ever sink his fangs into her neck. Angel had been second.   
Then Dracula. And Spike.  
  
  
She still had nightmares about drowning. Being unable to move, as water   
choked her mouth and nose, filling her lungs with each traitorous breath. All   
because she had once drowned in this very place, only to be brought back to life   
with Xander's breath.  
  
  
This time, when she had died, she had been brought back confused. But   
suffocating nonetheless; her coffin held no air. Her nightmares of waking   
where they left her haunted her sleep almost every night. It was the same as   
drowning, in a way. Not being able to breathe, dirt replacing the water   
that had once choked her.  
  
  
She was forced from her disturbing thoughts when Xander pushed up against   
her back. No one spoke as they joined her, waiting for her word. The plan   
was simple. Dust the lead vampire. Rescue Spike. Leave in peace.  
  
  
As her grip tightened on the sword in her hand, she was suddenly frightened   
that they hadn't planned enough. What if it didn't work? What if the head-on   
rush wasn't effective? Should she have sent Faith or Angel in first as a distraction?   
Or perhaps they had planned too long and would arrive too late?  
  
  
She listened. Noises came from the room beyond the mouth of the cave, soft   
chanting voices. Low growls. A little bit of light flickered through the   
entrance, not touching the party that stood waiting in the shadows.  
  
  
Taking a deep breath, she raised her arm, signaling the others, and rushed   
into the room.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Spike pulled his head back, gasping. He was waking again, with the taste   
of fresh blood on his lips. His eyes rolled as he tried to look around, to get   
his bearings.  
  
  
Kahamet knelt before him. He growled, his eyes flashing amber, and   
released her arm as if it had burnt him. She laughed.  
  
  
He scrambled back, rising shakily to his feet. She was on him in an   
instant, so fast even he couldn't follow her movements. She grabbed him   
roughly.  
  
  
"Told you..." she whispered, sliding her fingers into his hair and yanking   
his head back to bare his throat.  
  
  
He spit and struggled, cursing, but fighting her was like fighting a brick   
wall. He couldn't even move an inch in her grasp.  
  
  
The chanting from the men around them grew louder. She bent with a smile   
and sank her fangs into his neck once again.  
  
  
His entire body stiffened. He couldn't even cry out. This time was   
different. The pain was incredible. It felt as if everything he was was   
being drawn away in agonizing draughts. The pull tugged on his veins, his mind,   
his dead heart.  
  
  
His eyes finally rolled back in his head, his mouth slack. All he could   
see was light. When she abruptly released him, some unknown force kept him   
on his feet, swaying slightly. For him, time stilled.  
  
  
  
///  
  
  
Buffy felt rage ignite and burn through her at the scene she took in upon   
bursting into the room. Spike, limp in the arms of the vampire bitch.  
  
  
She screamed, slashing through the first two minions to come at her, their   
dust settling behind her as she continued on to her goal. The bitch. She was   
going to die.  
  
  
At the scream, the vampire released Spike, who remained standing even   
though he seemed unconscious. Light twisted around him, red in streaks   
like licking flames flowing up his form. Fear didn't even have a chance to   
grip the Slayer's heart. She was too pissed off.  
  
  
Kahamet stepped in front of her captive, smirking at the blonde rushing her   
way.  
  
  
"You've interrupted my ritual, girl. Luckily, I have drunk enough."  
  
  
Buffy stepped forward and swung her sword at the vampire's midsection.  
  
  
"Not so lucky. That's my boyfriend you've got."  
  
  
The vampire moved backward, the blade arcing inches away from her. And   
before Buffy knew what had happened, Kahamet had kicked the blade out of her   
hands. The force of the blow smashed one of the Slayer's hands, and sent   
her reeling.  
  
  
She lifted her head, checking on the others, who were engaged in battle   
with minions and human monks. She saw Angel get thrown into large ceremonial brazier, smashing the stand to bits, scattering the wooden legs about the room. He scrambled to his feet before the deadly flame would burn him to badly, though one of his arms was now useless.   
  
  
Fire began to spread, igniting in patches of minons, dusting quite a few. Giles knelt, chanting, Willow at his side, holding an energy barrier about the both of them. Xander was backed against the wall, struggling with two vampires, his axe slashing the air before them. Faith fought like a wild cat, kicking and screaming, tearing through lesser minons with fevor.  
  
  
Buffy rolled forward just in time, the vampire's fist grazing her head; jarring her, and   
snatched up a long piece of wood, one of the legs from the broken brazier. Getting quickly to her feet, she spun and   
connected a vicious kick to her foe's jaw, barely even phasing the woman.   
Her fight with Glory suddenly sprang into her mind.  
  
  
"Stupid girl. You think you can harm me? I have been restored!"  
  
  
Faith was at her side then, wiping away blood from a split lip.   
  
"No, but we can." and the dark haired Slayer attacked. She rushed at Kahamet, who easily side stepped her, and punched her hard in the back of the head, sending her kareening into the far wall. Faith crumbled, motionless.  
  
  
Buffy stared wide-eyed, the rage bubbling in her again, with a scream, she swung the wood like a baseball bat the vampire's head. It smashed into her temple, splintering at the end, making it sharper.  
  
  
Buffy blocked a punch from Kahamet with her arm, pain lacing up to   
her shoulder as she did so. The second punch caught her in the jaw,   
spinning her around and knocking her to the ground. Blood poured from her   
mouth.  
  
  
  
"See? You understand my power now?" The vampire raised her foot to   
crush Buffy's head.  
  
  
  
Buffy flipped quickly back up on to her feet, the woman's foot crashing   
beside her, cracking the stone. She head-butted her forcefully, knocked her back   
a few steps, and then shoved the long, sharp piece of wood into her heart.  
  
  
"Bitch." she spat out. "Understand my power?"  
  
  
Rage, then fear contorted Kahamet's face before she vanished in a cloud   
of dust.  
  
  
Buffy's breath stilled. Pain blossomed in her chest over her heart,   
spreading slowly to encompass the rest of her body.  
  
  
All of her rage drained away as she stared up at Spike's eyes, which met   
hers through the dust filling the air. Between them, the piece of wood that   
had dispatched his captor, the end of which was buried nearly three inches   
in Spike's own chest.  
  
  
"No!" Buffy screamed, the word seeming slow and soft to her own ears, as   
she watched the myriad of emotions cross her lover's face. Shock. Pain.   
Then love. Only love. The strange firelike light around him became a   
whirlwind about them both, sparks of energy dancing across its surface.  
  
  
Spike reached out a shaking hand, as if to touch her. The finger nearly   
reached her, before it began to crumble away, glittering dust swept up in   
the whirlwind.  
  
  
Tears poured down Buffy's cheeks. Her eyes locked on his, watching in   
silent agony as he slowly crumbled to dust.  
  
Her life with him, from nearly four years ago, when the sound of his   
clapping had signaled her first glimpse of him, to their first time together   
in the house that had fallen down around the passion of their coupling. The   
way he always knew what she was thinking, almost as if he could read her   
mind.  
  
  
His eyes were the last to go.  
  
  
Motes of dust glittered around her.  
  
  
  
"No!" She screamed again.  
  
  
  
Time stilled. The whirlwind stopped. Sweeps of golden hair hung in the   
air, as if caught in jelly. Soft dust colored the room. None fell. The   
sun stopped moving. Darkness fell, and all was silent.  
  
  
  
AN: Fear not. This isn't the end. Next update in three days.  
  
  
~To Be Continued~ 


	16. Choices

Nothing stirred in the cavern. People stood frozen, weapons arching for   
the kill. Tears hung motionless in the eyes of the blonde Slayer.  
  
  
With a brillant flash, something changed. Two forms materialized, standing   
amidst a world frozen in time.  
  
  
Buffy blinked, looking at her frozen self, then at her opaque hand, before   
looking up at Faith, who was in a similar position, mouth hanging open.  
  
  
"This is it, kids." a male voice said. Footsteps suddenly sounded, and a   
small man appeared, a hat nearly pulled down over his eyes.  
  
  
"The end of the world. Never thought you'd be the one to cause it, did you?"   
Whistler continued, looking at Buffy.  
  
  
Still stunned, staring at the space where Spike had fallen to dust at her   
own hand, her lost eyes looked up.  
  
  
"What...?"  
  
  
"You two..." he gestured to her and Faith. "You have a choice. Depending   
on what you choose, it'll either stay like this..." he swept his gaze around, "or,   
be different."  
  
  
Faith crossed her arms, a little wigged at the site of herself crumpled on   
the floor.  
  
  
"What choices?"  
  
  
Whistler shrugged.  
  
  
"Your choices will be different." he looked to her. Then to Buffy, who   
still looked as if she wasn't really there. "Guess you go first, Faith.   
You ready?"  
  
  
Faith furrowed her brow, and hugged herself as if she were cold. She   
didn't feel as if she were responsible enough to make any kind of decision.   
Hell, not too long ago she was on the other side.  
  
  
"Shoot," she said, her voice trying to be casual, but cracking slightly.  
  
  
Whistler smiled.  
  
  
"Alright. Your choice. You can consider this the moment of your   
redemption, Faith. You'll die, and spend eternity in bliss. Or...You can   
decline that. If you do that, you'll be in a coma for years to come."  
  
  
Faith blinked.  
  
  
"In which choice is the world saved?" she asked, bewildered.  
  
  
Whistler shrugged.  
  
  
"Not my call, kid."  
  
  
Faith frowned. She thought it over. Heaven, or living locked in darkness   
like before. She shuddered. It was obvious which choice would save the   
world. She couldn't be in a coma if there WAS no world.  
  
  
She squared her shoulders, and took a deep breath, looking Whistler in the   
eye.  
  
  
"I decline. Coma it is." she was shaking now.  
  
  
Whistler smiled.  
  
  
"Good choice, kid." He waved his hand and Faith faded away.  
  
  
Buffy hadn't heard a word of it. The form she was in had no tears to cry,   
but she was sobbing inside. Her grip on reality, whatever it might be at that   
point, was faltering.  
  
  
"Buffy. Your turn, kid."  
  
  
///  
  
  
Spike blinked and shielded his eyes, confused. He had suddenly found   
himself in this hallway of light, seeming to stretch on forever. He'd   
expected hell to be much different from this, though the light was so   
soddin' bright, he wasn't sure exactly what it was.  
  
  
"Oi! Hello?" he shouted, listening as his voice echoed down the coridor.  
  
  
Cursing, he absently rubbed the spot on his chest where the wood had slid   
into his heart. He cringed, remembering the look on Buffy's face. She   
would blame herself.  
  
  
"No need for profanity, my William. Your turn will come soon," a female   
voice behind him spoke, causing him to spin around.  
  
  
His eyes widened.  
  
  
"Dru?"  
  
  
She smiled softly.  
  
  
"In a way. I am what Drusilla was meant to be, William. Now, I am your   
guide. I must ask you a few questions."  
  
  
He stared. The woman before him was totally pure. And didn't sound   
insane. It was bewildering, speaking to her like this, with her speaking back in   
ways that could be understood.  
  
  
"Sod your questions," he said, when he finally got over the shock of   
seeing her there. "Tell me what's going on."  
  
  
Drusilla gave him a patient smile, like a mother explaining to a child who   
knows no better.  
  
  
"The world has ended, William. Your death triggered it. Now, the Balance   
can be restored. Or things can remain as they are. If that happens, you   
will remain here, and live out the rest of eternity with your Slayer."  
  
  
He blinked again. Holy shit. Was he in heaven? At the thought, he   
started to laugh. Then cut off abruptly at the look on his guide's face.  
  
  
"Uh...where am I?"  
  
  
"This place has many names. All are accurate, and none are. If you wish,   
you may call this Heaven."  
  
  
He started laughing again, nearly doubling over.  
  
  
"Think you made a mistake, luv. William the Bloody?" he gestured to   
himself. "In heaven?" he swept an arm around the room. "Don't think so."  
  
  
She smiled again, softly.  
  
  
"There is no mistake, William. You truly wished to change your ways. Love is   
a powerful force, the most powerful of all. It has driven you, molded you   
to its will. But the choice was yours. Your choices have led you down the   
path that brought you here. Now, your choice will lead you down another.   
Steps taken back, or forward. The choice is yours."  
  
  
"Luv? Repeat tha'? Didn't quite get ya..."  
  
  
She chuckled softly, taking a step toward him and grasping his hand.  
  
  
"Simply choose, William. Eternity here, with the one you love..." she   
looked around. "Or, the world. You will be returned as well, but some   
sacrifices must be made -- that we cannot reveal. Choose."  
  
  
Spike was stunned. The fate of the world rested on his shoulders. The   
thought almost sent him laughing again, but the gravity of the situation   
made it dry up in his throat. "What would Buffy do?" was his immediate   
thought. Hell, she would say stay. She missed this place. The world   
didn't hold that much for her any longer.  
  
  
But that wouldn't do. No more people, no more life. He had grown quite   
fond of people, after he stopped seeing them merely as food.  
  
  
He sighed, and ran his free hand through his hair.  
  
  
"Alright..." he shrugged. "The world, luv. I choose the world."  
  
  
///  
  
  
"What?!" Buffy shouted, rounding on Whistler. "That choice sucks!"  
  
  
He shrugged, repeating what he had said to Faith earlier.  
  
  
"Not my call, kid. Choose."  
  
  
  
Her eyes flashed angrily.  
  
  
"What if I refuse? To choose?"  
  
  
"Then nothing. You'll return to your body, and time will still be frozen.   
Choose. Eternity with the one you love, or the world."  
  
  
If she could have sobbed, she would have. But there were no tears in her   
phantom form.  
  
  
"Haven't I already done enough?" her voice broke. "I have sacrificed   
EVERYTHING for this world! To be the Slayer. I had to kill Angel to save   
the world. I gave up a normal life, to save the world. I GAVE MY LIFE TO   
SAVE THE WORLD!" she screamed. "Now, what, it starts all over again? The   
one I love has to die? When the world returns, will he?"  
  
  
Whistler just looked at her, calmly.  
  
  
"WILL HE?" she shouted, taking a step closer.  
  
  
"Don't know, kid. Choose."  
  
  
She turned around. Her face became a mask. No emotion shone through. She   
blinked twice, before speaking in a dead voice.  
  
  
"Fine. The world. Of course. Now get out of my sight."  
  
  
"You're sure?" Whistler asked, backing away.  
  
  
"Yes," came the soft reply. Buffy vanished, returning to her body.  
  
  
Whistler walked over to where she stood frozen, looking at her with   
sympathy.  
  
  
"It's never easy, kid. But you'll get it." He patted her shoulder, and   
then disappeared.  
  
  
The strands of hair began to move. Sweeping through the air, caught again   
in the whirlwind. The floating dust spun, reversing the direction it had started   
in. Gathering, re-forming, building the vampire once again.  
  
  
As the last of the dust formed the outstretched finger, the world slammed   
back into being, time started again.  
  
  
Spike screamed. 


	17. Tabula Rasa

Spike collapsed to his knees, gasping in pain. Buffy watched as instinct   
moved his hands, gripping the wodden shaft tightly, before ripping it out of   
his chest with a sickening sucking noise. He fell on his side, wrapping his arms   
around his chest and curling into a fetal position, trembling.  
  
  
'He's not dust, he's not dust...' was the only thought that was passing   
through Buffy's mind. As he had fallen, the whirlwind stopped, abruptly,   
the magic ended.  
  
  
Behind them, the battle waned. Giles finished his spell, and the last ten   
of the minions burst into flames, falling to dust. The wary Scoobies looked   
around, rejoining each other in the center of the room, gathering around   
Buffy. Xander held a hand to his side, limping slightly. Willow and Giles   
were unharmed, thanks to the witches' wall of force. Angel stood, stumbling   
slightly. Various wounds covered the vampire, but nothing more threatening   
than his burnt arm. They were all silent, watching Buffy and the blond   
vampire laying before her.  
  
  
She sank to her knees, tentatively putting out a hand, laying it on Spike's   
shoulder. He flinched away from her touch.  
  
  
"Spike?" she asked, her voice trembling.  
  
  
He didn't respond. He didn't even appear to have heard her. His eyes were   
squeezed shut, tears of pain leaking from behind them.  
  
  
"What...happened?" Angel gasped, joining the others.  
  
  
"I...staked him...I..." Buffy said slowly, the memory of him crumbling to   
dust already fading, slipping away because now, it had never really happened.   
Without even looking up, her eyes still locked on her lover, she spoke again.  
  
  
"Faith's hurt. We need to get out of here."  
  
  
Angel nodded, bewildered, watching his grand-childe suffer, and moved over   
to where Faith lay, crumbled like a broken doll. Blood pooled around her, a   
deep gash on the back of her head from where she had slammed into the wall.  
  
  
Buffy swallowed, and reached out, pulling Spike into her lap. He resisted,   
whimpering, trying to push her away.  
  
  
"What's wrong with him? I mean, aside from the sucking chest wound...."   
Xander asked, kneeling with some trouble beside Buffy.  
  
  
  
Buffy shook her head, watching as Spike finally opened his eyes, looking   
around wildly. He studied her face for a moment, before he flicked his gaze   
to Xander, and back again. He drew a breath and hissed in pain.  
  
  
"Wha...Who..?" he managed, before passing out.  
  
  
Buffy bit her lip, disconcerted by the way he had looked at her. As if he   
didn't know who she was. The love she was so used to shining from his blue   
eyes hadn't even flickered.  
  
  
  
///  
  
  
The doctors said Faith's chances weren't good. She had suffered serious   
head trauma. They had operated to relieve the swelling in her brain, but   
they weren't hopeful she would ever wake up.  
  
  
They had finally allowed Buffy to vist her, after the Slayer had explained   
that she and her friends were Faith's only family. She ran her fingers through the   
girl's dark hair, listening to the beeping of the monitors, the steady rise and fall   
of her chest as machines breathed for her. She felt guilty, for putting Faith   
in this position once again. Sure, she hadn't shoved a knife into her gut, this time,   
but it was her doing. In a way.  
  
  
She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the other Slayer's forehead,   
brushing away some of her hair.  
  
  
"I'm so sorry, Faith." she whispered, hoping she could hear her, somehow.   
They said it might help if she talked to her. "We're all here for you now.   
And we will be. Stay strong. I know you can get through this...."  
  
  
She sighed, and turned away, wiping a tear from her cheek. She left the   
hospital. She had another patient to visit.  
  
  
///  
  
  
Consciousness was slow in coming. First, there was the dull, aching pain,   
spreading outward from his chest, running slowly to his fingers and toes.   
He didn't know what had happened to him. But he felt he was getting better.  
  
  
He was lying on something soft, and sweet smelling. Bandages were wound   
around his chest, a patch of the same taped to the wounds on his neck. He   
must have been through something awful.  
  
  
He opened his eyes, squinting, staring up at the older gentleman standing   
over him. The man smiled. The look in his eyes told him he HAD been through   
something horrible. He wished he knew what it was....  
  
  
"Spike..." the man said. "Can you hear me?"  
  
  
Spike? He closed his eyes again for a moment, wondering if that was his   
name. What a strange name it was, if it was true. He finally managed to   
nod, opening his eyes again, watching the man.  
  
  
"Good. How do you feel? Buffy's been terribly worried for you.   
We..ah...all have."  
  
  
Spike swallowed. Buffy? Who's all? He shook his head, trying to clear   
it.  
  
  
"Where...am I?" he asked, looking up at the man.  
  
  
Giles smiled, relieved Spike was well enough to speak.  
  
  
"You're in Buffy's room. We couldn't very well take you to the hospital."  
  
  
"Buffy...?" Spike asked, wondering why that name kept being brought up.  
  
  
"She's fine, she went to check on Faith. She will be overjoyed you're   
awake." Giles replied, mistaking the meaning of Spike's question.  
  
  
"What..." Spike looked around the unfamiliar room, frowning. "Who are you?   
Who...am I?"  
  
  
Giles's face fell.  
  
  
"Spike...You are Spike, and I am Rupert Giles...You don't remember?"  
  
  
Spike shook his head, frowning. Apparently this man cared for him. He was   
frightened, of course, and confused. But the man seemed to bear him no ill   
will.  
  
  
"Rupert..."  
  
  
  
Giles nodded, his high hopes swiftly crashing.  
  
  
"Yes, Spike. But you all call me Giles most of the time." He cleared his   
throat, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Buffy is...your girlfriend," Giles managed  
to blurt out. "You...love her very much, and she you." The watcher sighed. "This is   
going to break her heart...."  
  
  
Spike coughed, trying to sit up.  
  
  
"What happened? Why can't I..."  
  
  
Giles shook his head.  
  
  
"I don't know. You were involved in a...battle. Perhaps it's due to your   
injuries, and will be only temporary."  
  
  
Angel stepped into the room, followed swiftly by Cordy. Spike watched as   
they entered, frowning, trying to spark some sort of memory.  
  
  
"What, no 'Hey Peaches?'" Angel asked with a grin. Cordelia chuckled.  
  
  
Spike furrowed his brow, and looked to Giles.  
  
  
"I know them, too?"  
  
  
Angel frowned, and Giles nodded.  
  
  
"Yes, this is Angel, and Cordelia Chase."  
  
  
"He can't remember anything?" Angel asked, still frowning.  
  
  
Giles shook his head.  
  
  
"No, apparently. He didn't even know his own name until I told him. Would   
you go downstairs and tell the others? I will need to...introduce them to him,   
one at a time..."  
  
  
Angel nodded, still frowning, and stoically left the room to bear the ill   
tidings.  
  
  
Cordelia lingered.  
  
  
"You don't remember me?" She asked Spike, who was watching her.  
  
  
"No..." he said slowly.  
  
  
"Do you even know what you are?" she continued.  
  
  
"Cordelia, now is not the time." Giles interrupted. She gave a little   
half smile and left the room, following Angel down the stairs.  
  
  
"What did she mean...?" Spike started, but was cut off as a teary-eyed   
blonde girl entered, barely holding back sobs.  
  
  
"Is it true?" Buffy asked, looking at the two most important men in her   
life.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	18. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
  
The last few weeks had been hard. Faith's condition had not improved, and   
there was little hope it ever would. From what Buffy could vaguely remember   
about their chat with Whistler, she knew this had been Faith's choice. Her   
sacrifice. Her own had been hard as well, but she didn't envy Faith. Of   
the two of them, Buffy figured the other slayer's choice had been much   
harder.  
  
  
Angel and his gang had stuck around, helping with the research and tests,   
until it became clear that no means could bring Spike's memory back. So   
Angel once again filled the role of sire, the first time because Dru was too   
loopy to teach her childer, and this time simply because he was the only   
vampire around. He retaught Spike everything he needed to know to be a vampire, down to what could kill him. Afterwards, he left his number, saying that   
if anything was ever needed, they knew where he was.  
  
  
She leaned back in her chair, pulling her knees to her chest, watching   
as Giles grilled Spike for the third time. He had all but healed of his   
injuries. After a brief wig on his part at discovering he was a vampire, he   
had somehow settled into a routine. She assumed he'd had to have made a   
choice as well, and his memory loss was a part of that. He was, essentially,   
totally innocent again; he had no memory of the blood that he had spilled   
in his past, nor of his role in various plots to kill her. He was absolved,   
at least in their eyes. They knew he was still responsible for everything   
he had done, but holding no memory of the events, he couldn't be held   
accountable. Perhaps this was the Powers' way of redeeming him.  
  
  
She watched as Spike quickly became annoyed with questions he couldn't   
answer. She smiled a little, resting her chin on her knees. It was amazing   
how much of his personality remained. He was still the snarky, annoying-as-hell   
Brit she had come to love. He still dressed the same. The duster was   
ever present, black clothes in place. She chuckled softly to herself,   
recalling how twitchy and fidgety he was before she reminded him that he   
smoked.  
  
  
She tilted her head, laying her cheek where her chin had rested. As if   
sensing her mood, the vampire looked over to her, and gave her a brief   
smile, before looking down. He had admitted to feeling a connection between   
them. They were taking it slow. He was getting to know her again, and by   
the looks he was giving her when he thought she wasn't looking, she was   
having the same effect all over again.  
  
  
His fighting skills were also still intact. He was as amazed as the rest   
of them, not knowing where he learned to fight so well. Perhaps the powers   
had left them for a reason.  
  
  
He finally broke off from Giles with a few sharp words and upraised hands,   
retreating to the table and falling bonelessly into a seat. He smiled over   
at her.  
  
  
"'e's gonna be the bloody death o' me..." He frowned. "or somethin'."  
  
  
She chuckled and raised her head.  
  
  
"How are you doing?"  
  
  
He shrugged, picking at his fingernails.  
  
  
"Doin' fine, luv, I s'pose. Bleedin' annoyin' not bein' able ta remember   
anythin', but.." he shrugged again.  
  
  
"We're all here for you, you know that, right?" Her eyes misted over   
slightly, watching him. She missed him terribly.  
  
  
He looked up and smiled, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, not even   
really noticing he was doing so.  
  
  
"Yeah, luv, I know. Great lot ya got 'ere." His eyes darted about the   
room. She sensed the tightly coiled energy in him, through their bond, and   
chuckled softly. He probably didn't even know why he was so edgy, ready to   
bounce off the walls. She muttered something about hyperactive vampires,   
which he of course, heard, and stood, stretching.  
  
  
"Come on, Spike, let's go 'get a spot 'o violence' before you jump out of your skin."  
  
  
///  
  
AN: The end. Thank you all for your support throughout this story, I   
really, seriously, wouldn't have finished it without it. And yes, there is   
a sequel already in the works, but I am going to do a few other fics first.   
Once again, thank you for making my first fic a great success. Below is the challange that inspired it all.  
  
The following prophecy has to be used, the passage itself, somewhere in the story. Buffy is, of course, the child of light, but you may see the rest however you like.  
  
The child of light, cloaked in red  
With hands for death and eyes unread  
Shall take the gift and buy it back,  
And give her soul for one who lacks  
When the water turns and the new blood burns  
The wall from night to day will raze,  
And the bridge that rises in its place   
Shall be consecrated in blue and black and crimson  
And the first soul-mates will be born  
At the price of the world  
*  
  
Other Requirements:  
1. The prophecy must be carried out *in full* (however you interpret it), but if you could find a way to do it without literally bringing the apocalypse thus having at least a semi-happy ending, that would be cool.  
2. A fight between Dawn and Angel, of some kind other than verbal, and neither of them possessed by anything unnatural at the time  
3. a sword-fight or spear-fight in a double-decker bus  
4. at least one really fantastic S/B fight, physical and/or verbal  
5. must be set season 5 or 6  
6. Riley can be discussed, but is not to make any appearances, unless it's him leaving.  
7. someone has to have sex (preferably S/B, but optional), but can be off-screen to preserve rating  
8. one song by Garbage, Dave Mathews Band, the Tea Party, 3rd Eye Blind, or Bush  
9. an earring that allows a vampire to see his/her reflection but has to be put on the vampire's ear by a human, of their own volitionX  
10 some kind of huge event that affects/changes/touches all the vamps in the world at once, including Spike and Angel  
11. serious choice[s] made dealing with heavy moral issues (for example life, death, love, hate, sacrifice, gain, loss, prices that come with power/happiness, innocence, killing, soul-stuff, etc)  
12. at least one S/B kiss  
  
  
Optionals:  
1. Spike blackmailing Buffy into giving him a manicure  
2. a red telephone booth  
3. a vampire bleeding to "death"  
4. a sickness/disease/poison  
5. a game of blind poker with something vital as the bet  
6. a rainforest scene  
7. an Egyptian or South American pyramid scene  
8. flower[s], in any context  
9. someone reading aloud from a book  
10. little kid or someone as a little kid 


End file.
